


That Doesn’t Mean You Mean That Much to Me

by Polaris



Series: I’m Not in Love [7]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Bottom Yondu Udonta, Camping, Friendship, I owe Sean Gunn a nice fruit basket or something, No Seriously This Is The Equivalent of the Anime Beach Episode, Other, Polyamory, Recreational Drug Use, Romantic bukkake, Team as Family, questionable parenting, raccoon sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-21 17:31:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14289849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polaris/pseuds/Polaris
Summary: “Wait, we’re really gonna camp?” Rocket asks.“I think we should.” Quill grins. “This was a great idea, Rocket. Good thinking.”





	1. Chapter 1

It’s been a long time since a job has gone bad.

The Sovereign, specifically, and that was all Rocket’s fault so he don’t like to talk about it. But the point is, they’ve been running jobs with their shiny new equipment for a couple months now, and shit usually goes according to plan.

This shit ain’t going according to plan.

Rocket throws up his magnetic shields as blaster fire comes at him from all angles. He’s safe in here, but that don’t help matters since he can’t fire back through the barrier. If they’d just come a little bit closer—

“I don’t even _like_ mushrooms!” growls Nebula to his left. 

Rocket rolls his eyes as Yondu’s whistle pauses long enough for him to laugh.

“That’s too bad, because that’s what we’re getting paid in!” Quill appears above Rocket, raining fire down on the raiders they’ve been hired to stop from stealing the sacred fungus on this crappy dumb planet.

Rocket can’t even remember the name of it. Why bother? He knows they’re not gonna trust him alone here anytime soon. Worst part is he can’t even blame them. Doesn’t stop him from being pissy about it though.

He drops the shields and shoots the creep edging toward where Drax is fighting back to back with Gamora. 

Another flash of red in his periphery lets him clock Kraglin, who slashes a goon’s throat and turns his head to avoid the worst of the ochre spray.

That probably isn’t hot to most people. Oh well.

“How many more of them are there?” demands Gamora. She sounds pissed, and Rocket can’t blame her; they were reassured that this was gonna be a small raiding group.

“I think I heard one call for backup, but—hey, watch it!” Yondu’s arrow zips past Quill’s head— “Mantis! Do you see any more?”

“Yes. More are coming. There are already twenty-seven of them on the surface with you.” Mantis’s voice sounds strained over the comms. They left her in the _Milano_ to keep her out of the fight, and she’s adopted the position of team communicator. “I am coming to your position.”

“No, don’t do that! The fighting is too thick for you to land here!” Nebula actually sounds a little panicky.

“I know what I am doing. You will need backup.” 

“Don’t be stupid,” snarls Gamora, but Rocket hears the blip as Mantis shuts off her comm.

“Is she mad?” Drax bellows. “She isn’t a good enough pilot for this.”

“Sure she is,” grunts Kraglin. “I been workin’ with her.”

“Oh, that’s reassuring.” Quill shoots a couple of the raiders before they can close in on Rocket.

“Thanks,” Rocket mutters. Not like he didn’t have it handled.

“I taught you t’ fly, Pete. So shut up an’ let her.”

“You taught me when I was ten! And I sucked for years!”

“Good thing she’s a better pilot than you,” Kraglin snaps.

“Cut it out,” says Yondu, catching his arrow. “We got company.”

Rocket looks up and sees three more ships incoming. “Fuck.”

“Mantis!” Nebula shouts into her comm. “Abort! They’re already here!”

The _Milano_ banks sharply as two of the ships go after her. Yondu’s arrow streaks red between them, and one explodes immediately, leaving Mantis to shake the other as the third ship lands.

Creeps in gray suits come pouring out of the hold, guns up and firing. One of them trips over a clump of fungus and gets Gamora’s sword through his head before he can pick himself up.

“Rocket!” Gamora bellows. “Take down that ship!”

“On it.” Rocket pulls out the big gun, the one he’s been saving for a real shitstorm. Well, it’s showtime. He aims carefully, impressed in spite of himself at how well Mantis is dodging, and shoots the second ship in the back where the engine ought to be located.

It goes spinning out, finally crashing and skidding at the edge of the field where they’re fighting. People pour from the smoking hold, coughing and stumbling. Easy for Quill to descend on with guns blazing.

Kraglin goes in after him on the ground, gun in one hand and his big knife in the other. Nebula’s right behind him, screaming a war cry.

It actually makes a few of them turn tail and run. Rocket’s impressed.

Figuring the three of them can handle it, Rocket jets back to Drax and Gamora. They’re fighting their way back to the _Milano,_ which Mantis managed to land okay. 

Drax is clearly having too much fun for Gamora’s taste; he laughs as he rips through guys like paper and kicks the falling bodies out of his way. “It has been too long since we’ve had a real challenge!” he says happily.

“This is _not_ the kind of challenge I enjoy!” snarls Gamora. She flicks her sword out almost effortlessly and beheads a dude trying to sneak up on her side.

“Why not?” Drax gives her a weird look.

“‘Cause Gamora don’t like fights she can’t win, Big Guy,” says Yondu cheerfully between frantic whistles. 

“That is not true,” she snaps. “I just don’t like going into a battle where I was deliberately misinformed about the odds!”

“Yeah, that’s somethin’ we’s gonna have t’ bring up when we collect our pay.” Yondu’s grin turns nasty as he catches the arrow and sends it off again.

The hold door is opening on the _Milano_ when Rocket hears Yondu’s hoarse yell. Something in the tone stops him dead, and he turns in time to see a red streak go zipping toward Quill.

Quill, who’s on the ground, clutching at his leg while one of his jet boots sputters weakly.

Kraglin’s running toward him, but he’s too far away to do much good when there’s a goon with a gun right behind Quill. The guy raises the gun, aiming execution-style for the back of his head—

“ _Peter!”_ Gamora’s scream cuts through Rocket like ice.

—and then Nebula’s there, and Rocket can’t see but he can hear her scream as the shot hits her. The arrow zips through the creep’s skull a second later, dropping him on the spot.

Too late. 

Rocket don’t usually freeze, but Nebula ain’t moving. Quill’s got her, and Kraglin drops to a knee next to him to hook an arm around her and get her up, but she’s slumped against him and there’s a big stain spreading on the front of her reds.

When Rocket looks over, Gamora’s a sickly light green. She starts in on the nearest group of raiders, and the ferocity with which she rips them apart is actually frightening. He keeps forgetting to be scared of her, but once in awhile something reminds him.

Drax isn’t laughing anymore either; he looks pissed.

Rocket jets over to the open hold of the _Milano,_ where Mantis is stepping out onto the ground. Her face is pale and tight as she stares at Quill and Kraglin dragging Nebula back toward the ship.

“Hey, she’s gonna be fine,” says Rocket a little too cheerfully. He hopes to god he’s right.

She glances at him, and her jaw clenches. “Stay here.”

“What? No! You’re not even armed, you can’t go out there!”

Mantis ignores him, and shit, he ain’t big enough to stop her short of knocking her out. “Mantis!”

The wind kicks up as she clears the ship, whipping her hair around her face. Rocket can see her antennae light up when she drops to her knees and shoves her hand into a clump of brownish mushrooms.

“ _Sleep,_ ” she whispers, and something in her voice makes Rocket’s fur stand on end.

The fight stops.

Rocket’s mouth falls open as everyone drops where they stand, Drax included. Gamora freezes with her sword still impaling a guy and looks around.

Yondu looks as stunned as Rocket feels, and Kraglin’s frozen with wide eyes and Nebula still slumped against his side.

“Holy shit.” It’s Quill who says it, but they were all thinking the same thing.

Mantis gets to her feet and brushes her hands on her leggings. “Hurry!” she yells to Kraglin. “Get her inside, we don’t have much time!”

Kraglin shakes his head briskly and begins hauling Nebula back toward the ship. Quill helps; he’s limping but otherwise okay from the look of it.

Gamora heaves Drax across her shoulders and carries him to the ship. “You used the fungus’s underground network to push your abilities,” she says faintly.

Mantis nods. “I did research on it before the mission.” She looks past Gamora to where Yondu’s rushed out to take Nebula off Quill’s hands. They’re arguing, but they’re too far off for Rocket to hear what they’re saying.

They eventually get to the _Milano,_ where Gamora has the med kit out and ready to go.

“She’s alive,” Kraglin grunts as he hands her off to Gamora. “Ain’t good though.”

Rocket snarls before he can help himself and stomps up to the cockpit. Screw the sacred fungus; he’s shooting every last one of these bastards.

He doesn’t notice Mantis following him until he’s got the guns warmed up. “Why ain’t you down there with Nebula?”

“Gamora is tending to her. I would be in the way.” Mantis’s hands are clenched on the armrests. “Are you going to kill them?”

“Yep.” 

She nods and looks out the windshield.

Rocket grins as he mows down the sleeping raiders, topping it off with a very satisfying explosion when he gets the fuel tank on the last ship.

When he’s done, he takes them up; there’s an actual hospital in the city, and he feels better having something to do. It beats sitting down there watching Nebula fight to stay alive.

He did enough of that with Yondu after the Ego fiasco.

“That was pretty badass, what you did back there,” he tells Mantis.

She’s still tense when he looks over, misery written all over her face. “I was too late.”

“Nebula’s tough,” Rocket insists, as much for his benefit as for hers. “She’s taken harder hits than this one.”

Gamora’s head pops up on the stairs as she climbs into the cockpit. “Rocket, you’re going to the city?”

“Yep. How’s Blue?”

“Stable. She’s lost some blood.” Gamora gives Mantis a hard look. “You need to stick to the plan.”

Mantis narrows her eyes. “Wasn’t the plan based on incorrect information?”

“Then we reconvene and make a new plan. You could have gotten killed. You could have gotten _Groot_ killed. Those decisions aren’t yours to make alone.”

“Ease up, Gamora. She won the whole fight for us.”

“After she distracted Nebula!” snaps Gamora.

Mantis looks like she’s been slapped.

Rocket looks between them. “Look,” he says after a beat in which Mantis stares down at her lap like she’s trying not to cry, “if you guys got beef, save it. We got stuff to do.”

“We don’t have beef,” says Gamora. She’s got her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

Rocket rolls his eyes. “Whatever. How’s Quill?”

“Fine. He twisted his ankle when one of his boots took a hit. He would be better if Yondu stopped sniping at him.” 

Rocket narrows his eyes. “You got shit to say about everyone today, don’t you? You on the rag or what?”

Gamora gives him a nasty look. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” she says, and vanishes down the stairs.

“Man.” Rocket shakes his head. “I get she’s worried about her sister, but she’s bein’ a real bitch. Am I right?” He throws Mantis a look.

She sniffles. “She is scared. I can’t blame her for being scared.”

“Yeah, but I can blame her for takin’ it out on you. Go see your girl.” Rocket jerks his head toward the hold.

Mantis bites her lip. 

“Go,” he says again. “You can feed her all the good feelings an’ shit. Or whatever it is you do.”

She nods shakily. “Thank you, Rocket. I—I will.” With a determined look, she gets to her feet.

“And Mantis?”

“Yes?”

Rocket nods. “You kicked ass out there.”

A slow, bashful smile spreads across her face. “Thank you,” she says again, and then she’s gone.

Rocket sits back with a heavy sigh. He’s twitchy with leftover adrenaline, and the thing with Quill scared him more than he’s okay with. His hands are shaking on the controls when he looks down at them.

“Hey.” Kraglin’s soft voice jerks him out of his funk. He pauses halfway up the stairs and tilts his head. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Gamora said Quill’s okay?”

“He’s fine.” Kraglin gives him a loaded look, and Rocket curses. 

“How bad is Yondu takin’ it?”

“He’s pretty shook up.” Kraglin sits in the chair Mantis vacated and pulls up the navs. They don’t need ‘em to just skim the surface, but it’s something to do.

“He yell at you for being too far away?” asks Rocket with a sly look in Kraglin’s direction.

Kraglin snorts. “He will.”

Rocket sighs. Yeah, nothing like the thought of Quill dying to send Yondu off the deep end. “How’s Nebula? Anything change?”

“Gamora got her patched okay. She’s gonna need blood though.”

“Shit.” Rocket lets Kraglin take the controls and slumps in his seat. “What a goddamn mess.”

Kraglin hums in agreement.

—

Nebula gets her blood.

They get their sacred mushroom payout; more than they’d negotiated for at first, thanks to Yondu’s arrow and Quill’s people skills. 

None of them were letting Gamora anywhere near those jerks, not with the way she keeps stomping around being pissy. For all she and Nebula don’t actually hang out that much, Gamora’s clearly pretty messed up over what happened to her.

But that’s Quill’s problem to deal with; Rocket’s got Yondu pacing like a caged f’saki around their room back on the Quadrant. He keeps fingering the arrow like he wants to put it through someone’s eye.

“You’re makin’ it really hard to concentrate on exchange rates,” Rocket says mildly.

Yondu growls. “Those bastards got off too easy,” he mutters. “Two injuries on what what supposed t’ be a quick mission. Ain’t right.”

Rocket puts his datapad down. “Come here.”

Yondu glares at him.

“You’re makin’ me twitch and it ain’t helping anything. Come here.” Rocket raises both eyebrows.

Yondu slinks over with an ugly scowl and sits when Rocket points to the bed. He crosses his arms tightly.

Rocket presses against his back. “It scared me too,” he admits quietly.

Yondu grunts.

“Had to be worse for you. I get it. If it was Groot, I’d be messed up too.”

Some of the tension leaves Yondu’s shoulders. Not much, but at least he’s not vibrating with it anymore.

Rocket sighs. Kraglin’s hiding out on the bridge ever since Yondu bawled him out for not watching Quill’s back. He must feel kinda guilty, because he put up with it for a good five minutes before he shouted back that Quill ain’t twelve and doesn’t need watching anymore.

That went over great. 

Rocket’s not gonna point out that they sound just like the Xandarian family shows where the older sibling gets chewed out by the parents for not taking care of the younger one. There’s weird, and then there’s too weird, and he ain’t sure which side of the line this falls on.

“Tell you what,” says Rocket. “I’ll get to work, start puttin’ some armor on the aero rigs. See if I can’t rig up a shielding device we can activate internally.”

Yondu nods dully. “We got comfortable,” he says softly.

“Huh?” 

“All o’ us. We got comfortable. Got sloppy.” Yondu stares at the wall. “Been too long since we had somethin’ go wrong, an’ we ain’t ready when it does.”

Rocket frowns. “So what are we supposed to do about that?”

“Fix it. Train together, tighten up.” Yondu turns to him. “You an’ Quill an’ Drax an’ Gamora know how t’ fight as a unit. Me an’ Krags an’ Quill can fight as a unit. Gamora an’ Nebula too. But all of us? We ain’t been practicin’ enough.”

It’s a good idea, and Rocket’s annoyed he didn’t think of it first. But then, Yondu’s managed a crew for thirty years, and was part of Stakar’s crew before that. 

“We should talk to Quill about it,” he says.

“ _You_ should talk t’ Quill about it. He ain’t gonna take kindly t’ me tellin’ him how t’ run his crew.”

“Thought you two were all hunky dory. What’d I miss?” Rocket frowns.

“Nothin’ but typical bullshit.” Yondu sighs. “I jus’ get under his skin, that’s all. Ain’t tryin’.”

Rocket’s eyebrows shoot up. “Why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

“What’s t’ say?” Yondu snorts. 

Rocket has some opinions about Yondu’s fatalistic crap, but now ain’t the time to bring them up. He’s apparently committed to being a sad bitch, so Rocket won’t bother cheering him up either. He just rests his cheek against Yondu’s back and hopes the bad mood will pass.

—

Quill actually thinks training in new teams is a great idea.

“Wait, really?” Rocket blinks.

“Yeah! I mean, we got kinda sloppy while we were living with Stakar, don’t you think?” Quill gives him an earnest look.

Rocket bites back all the things he wants to say to that; it weirds him out when Quill acts too much like Yondu.

“So what did you have in mind?” he asks suspiciously. 

Quill shrugs. “We have to identify the weak points. People who don’t usually work together, that sort of thing.”

Rocket pictures Mantis and Gamora on a team and shudders. “Maybe we oughta use groups of three. That way it’s even.”

“What, you’re including Groot?” Quill looks scandalized.

Better not mention how he and Yondu let the kid kill Retch. Whoops.

“It ain’t like he’s too young to learn,” says Rocket instead of incriminating himself in underage homicide.

“Yeah, but he’s pretty far behind everyone else on skill,” Quill points out, and Rocket once again has to bite the inside of his cheek.

“What if we ain’t there to protect him? I’d feel better if he knew some stuff.”

Quill’s mouth turns down at the corners, and Rocket knows he’s thinking about all the times they’ve nearly died. “Okay, yeah. So how should we split this up? I’ll get Gamora, we can all plan this together.”

Rocket can feel the inside of his cheek starting to bleed from where he’s biting it.

It don’t take Gamora more than a few minutes to get to them. “You said you wanted to go over some things about strategy?” She looks between them expectantly.

“Yeah. Rocket pointed out that we could use some training exercises. Tighten up the team, that kind of thing.”

She raises an eyebrow and looks Rocket over coolly. “Not a bad idea. Did you have a plan?”

“Nope. We thought we’d include you, since you’re the warrior.” Quill gives her a bright smile that has her whole face softening.

“I’m an assassin. Working in groups is as new to me as it is to you.” She sits down.

Rocket snorts. “Quill’s the only one who’s been doin’ group work. Most I ever did was pairs.”

Quill shrugs. “But we’ve got some pretty obvious weak points if we think about it.”

“Groot and Mantis,” Gamora says immediately.

“Mantis ain’t weak, exactly,” Rocket points out. “She’s just got a weird skill set.”

“She’s undisciplined,” says Gamora. “She doesn’t know how to work in groups either.”

“Kraglin and Nebula have been working with her though,” Quill says. “She can fire a gun if she needs to, and her piloting is okay. Needs work.”

“She don’t like guns,” Rocket feels the need to say. “She likes knowing how to use ‘em, but they’re never gonna be her favorite.”

“Communication is where we break down.” Gamora’s warming to the topic now. “There isn’t a protocol for emergencies, so everyone tries to make their own plans and conflict arises.”

Rocket rests his chin in his hand and watches her. This is something Gamora’s good at, as long as she has someone around to point out her own blind spots.

“So we should make some disaster plans, is what you’re saying,” says Quill, nodding eagerly.

Rocket brings up their board and starts making notes on the display. “Disaster plans are great as long as the disaster goes according to plan,” he mutters. “What we need is to make sure everyone can work together with everyone else in case shit hits the fan.”

He looks at Gamora and sees the barb hit home when her mouth goes tight.

“Drax an’ Nebula can’t stand each other,” Rocket continues. “They end up stranded together somewhere, they’re probably gonna kill each other before they can get help.” He writes Drax and Nebula’s names on the display and connects them with a jagged line. 

“What’s that for?” asks Quill. 

“To show they don’t get along,” says Rocket. He writes the rest of their names and moves them around. “See, the four of us have been fighting together the whole time, so we got this down, but all the new people gotta get integrated into our way of doin’ things. Problem is, Nebula ain’t a team player, Mantis is way behind on a lot of stuff, and Yondu an’ Kraglin are used to doing shit their own way.”

Quill and Gamora are both nodding, although Gamora is eyeing Rocket. “So what’s your suggestion for improving, since you clearly have one?” she asks.

Rocket smirks. “Would you throw somethin’ at me if I said trust falls?”

She growls.

“That’s a great idea though,” Quill points out. “Trust building exercises that help us all bond as a team.”

“Like that one Krylorian theory that was all over the news?” Rocket asks innocently, feeling Gamora’s eyes burning into him.

“You mean the one where people ask personal questions to build emotional intimacy? Yeah. That’s an option.”

“You want to have us sit across from each other and ask intrusive questions?” Gamora sounds horrified.

“You weren’t wrong when you told me we were stronger together.” Rocket gives her a pointed look. He’s actually grateful to her for calling him on his bullshit when no one else would, so he’ll return the favor.

Her jaw twitches.

“We should do it for everybody, even the ones who get along,” says Quill. “That way no one gets singled out as a weak link.”

“Perhaps some self-assessment in terms of skill would be appropriate,” murmurs Gamora. She doesn’t look nearly as enthusiastic as she did when she walked in.

Quill’s typing on his datapad. “Rocket, you know what you said about dividing into groups of three?”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s keep that. We can get everyone into groups and spend a week just sticking with our group before we alternate so everyone gets to be in a group with everyone else. It’ll be like camp.”

“Like what?” 

“Camp. It’s a thing on Earth where parents send their kids away to a nature themed place where they live in cabins and bond with other kids doing activities.”

“That sounds hazardous,” murmurs Gamora. “What if the camps were attacked?”

“Who supervises the kids? Or do they get to run wild?” asks Rocket.

“What? There’s counselors to supervise the kids! And no one attacks summer camps!” Quill frowns at them.

“What if the kids revolt and take over?” Rocket grins viciously.

“Dude, it’s supposed to be fun!” 

“Oh. You didn’t say that.” Rocket sits back. “So what kinds of stuff do they do?”

“I imagine it’s to learn useful survival skills,” says Gamora approvingly.

“Uhh...I only went once. It was a thing because my mom was sick.” Quill looks down. “But we were on a lake so we got to go swimming and canoeing and make macaroni art.”

“What’s macaroni?” asks Rocket.

“Noodles.”

“That’s wasting food.”

“How do you make art out of noodles?” asks Gamora. “Is that part of your heritage?”

Rocket stops himself from snorting. It’s sweet how Gamora takes an interest in Quill’s weird Terran stuff. 

“You just glue them to paper to make shapes and stuff,” says Quill with a shrug. “It’s not exactly high art.”

She nods seriously. “I could see this having some merit for team building. What else does one do at camp?”

“Let’s see....nature hikes, scavenger hunts, campfire songs...” Quill looks nostalgic. “S’mores.”

“Some more what?” 

“No, s’mores. They’re a snack. Marshmallows are these sweet sticky sugary things that you roast on sticks over the fire and then you put them between two graham crackers and chocolate to make a sandwich. They’re really good.”

Gamora nods again. “We can try to find an equivalent.”

“Wait, we’re really gonna camp?” Rocket asks. 

“I think we should.” Quill grins. “This was a great idea, Rocket. Good thinking.”

—

“You suck,” says Kraglin flatly. “I was thinkin’ we’d train up some an’ you go an’ give Quill this dumbass idea.”

Rocket winces. “He and Gamora ran with it! I couldn’t stop them!” He looks helplessly around their room, where luggage and camping supplies litter the floor. 

Yondu scowls, trying and failing to fold some nasty underwear to fit into his already bulging case.

“Ain’t that the pair I threw away yesterday?” asks Rocket suspiciously, eager to distract Kraglin.

“Yeah. Fished ‘em out. Still got some life in ‘em.”

Rocket makes a face and feels bad for Drax and Mantis.

The final decision (which Rocket protested loudly) was that couples and triads shouldn’t be in groups together. They’ve got three weeks in one of the big parks on Xandar, and each group is gonna spend a week together before people shuffle.

Rocket’s stuck with Gamora and Groot, which ain’t terrible but also ain’t gonna be any fun. Kraglin’s pissed because he’s with Quill and Nebula, but honestly, Rocket would rather trade.

Gamora’d said no way. Something about Kraglin’s hygiene. Stupid choice on her part; he ain’t gonna smell better after a week in the woods.

Whatever. Rocket flops back on the bed. “I don’t guess I’m gonna get a blowjob for the road?” he asks the ceiling.

“Eat shit,” says Kraglin before he goes back to packing.

“Oh, come on.” Rocket sits up. “Three weeks with no sex and you’re doing this now?”

“Boy, you don’t want his teeth near your dick when he’s pissed at you,” says Yondu without looking up.

Rocket sighs. “Baby,” he tries, and watches Kraglin’s shoulders hunch, “baby, I didn’t know they were gonna do three weeks of this shit.” He ignores Yondu’s frantic head shaking and slips off the bed to go wind around Kraglin’s legs.

He gets nudged aside, but not kicked. Close enough to a win when Kraglin’s this pissy. 

“Let me do somethin’ nice for you,” he says, pitching his voice low and sweet.

Kraglin gives him a sour look.

“I’ll eat you out,” Rocket says, and to his satisfaction Kraglin pauses in his packing before going back to it.

“You can come all over my asshole and push it into me. Make sure I smell like you the whole time we’re apart.” He might be getting desperate.

Yondu snorts.

Rocket throws him a glare before winding around Kraglin’s legs again. He knows he looks like a needy cat, but pride can take a backseat right now. He wants to get laid, and more importantly he doesn’t want Kraglin mad at him. “Baby,” he murmurs, “I’ll let you spank me for being so bad.”

Kraglin finally looks down at him, hands on his hips. “I oughta dig out the big plug an’ make ya wear it the whole time,” he says, but his expression is softening just a little.

Rocket flashes him a winning smile. “For you, baby? I’d do it.”

Kraglin shakes his head. “Someday I’m gonna grow crops with all the bullshit you feed me.” 

Rocket reaches up to rub Kraglin’s thighs. “I tried to convince ‘em to go to one of the other core planets instead, but I guess it’s tourist season on Krylor and A’askavar won’t honor your immunity.”

Kraglin grunts, but there’s a growing bulge in his jumpsuit. “I hate that fuckin’ planet,” he mutters. “Rob one little bank an’ they treat us like shit.”

“Rude of ‘em,” Rocket agrees, pulling the zipper down and licking at the front of Kraglin’s tented briefs.

Kraglin hisses. “Dunno what their goddamn problem is. All that money was insured.”

“Rich bastards.” Rocket wiggles his tongue past the fabric and groans at the taste of Kraglin’s skin. “Love how you taste,” he mutters.

“Shit,” breathes Kraglin, and his hips twitch a little. 

Rocket pulls his dick out and licks up the length of it before opening his mouth for the head. He closes his eyes, savoring the weight of Kraglin’s cock on his tongue. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Yondu shaking his head fondly at the two of them, so he winks.

“You owe us both, ya know.” Kraglin notices the exchange. “Think we oughta make him do somethin’ nice for both of us, don’t you, Cap’n?”

Yondu grins. “Well, we saw what happened las’ time Rocket got t’ make any decisions, so what’re you thinkin’, Krags?”

Rocket scowls, but he don’t respond on account of his mouth being full.

Kraglin looks down at Rocket and swipes a thumb across his lip. It catches a whisker and makes Rocket twitch. “You’re gonna suck his cock until he comes on your face. An’ I’m gonna jerk off against your asshole until I come all over ya. You’re gonna smell us the whole time we’re apart.”

Rocket gulps. “You’re evil,” he whispers.

“Brought it on yourself,” says Kraglin with a wicked leer. 

Yondu abandons his packing and pushes to his feet with a groan. “We takin’ this t’ the bed?”

“Yeah.” Kraglin gives Yondu a hooded look. “Get all the way undressed now. Wanna look at ya while he licks you.”

Yondu shivers, a slow grin stretching his face. “Ain’t you gonna play with me, darlin’?”

Kraglin snags him by the neck as he walks by and pulls him into a kiss. His other hand snakes around Yondu’s waist and squeezes, making Yondu whine into his mouth.

Rocket stares up at them for a second before he turns his head and nuzzles Yondu’s crotch. He can smell him through the leathers, musky and rich, and he wants to get his mouth on him so bad—

“ _Shit,_ ” Kraglin whispers, and Rocket realizes he’s looking down. “I oughta make him take turns on us.”

“Aw hell,” Yondu mutters; Rocket peeks up to meet hungry red eyes. “Ain’t gonna say no t’ none of it, Krags. All sounds pretty good.”

Rocket gets the zipper on Yondu’s pants down, and that seems to settle it. He can’t see Yondu’s face anymore, but the little hitching noise he makes when Rocket gets his dick out and slurps over the head tells him everything he needs to know. So he opens his mouth and wraps his tongue around the tip of Yondu’s cock. He’s drooling enough that his hands are gonna be nice and soft in no time, and then he can see how well his coordination holds up while he takes turns sucking their dicks.

“Told ya he was a cock hungry slut,” murmurs Kraglin, and Rocket whines. “Look at him, how fuckin’ _greedy_ he is for it.”

Yondu lets out a breathy groan. “Get your hands on me, Krags. Want you t’ touch me.”

Kraglin slips clever hands down the back of Yondu’s pants and kneads his ass, which makes his back arch. His dick smears a wet line across Rocket’s cheek. 

Having both of them so close means their scents mingle pleasantly, and Rocket huffs a deep breath before he turns back to give Kraglin a long lick. Being down here sucking them off while they kiss above him is filthy and degrading in a fun way, and Rocket wraps a soft hand around each of their dicks and goes to town.

It ain’t like he didn’t know they taste and feel different, but as he laps precum from the head of Kraglin’s cock with the taste of Yondu still thick on his tongue, Rocket can really appreciate it here. Kraglin’s cock is thicker, the skin more velvety where Yondu’s is smooth, and of course he’s got a bush of crinkly hair for Rocket to nuzzle. He sniffs appreciatively, then pulls away to go back to Yondu.

He loves the way Yondu smells, and the way his tongue rasps just a little if he licks Yondu’s skin in the right direction. And the slight twitch of Yondu’s cock when he dances his claws up the underside. 

It gets to be like a challenge, or a puzzle, finding the rhythm for both of them. When to switch, how long to spend on one, how to listen for the sounds Yondu makes when he gets close to coming. That’s his cue to go back to Kraglin, and he does, looking up to watch Kraglin throw his head back while Yondu pants into his neck.

It’s good.

And when they both finally come all over his face and head, and leave him smelling claimed and loved, he pulls his own dick out of his suit and jerks himself off with the scent of them heavy in his nostrils.

He comes with a needy whine, and peers up to see Kraglin smirking down at him.

“You’re a goddamn mess,” he says warmly.

Rocket leans against his legs. He’s tired now, and he wants to get picked up even if he still can’t bring himself to ask for it.

A big hand settles on his nape, right above his hardware. “Such a sweetheart when ya wanna be,” murmurs Yondu, and Rocket leans eagerly back into his hand.

Kraglin bends to scoop him up and Rocket takes the opportunity to bury his face in his neck. He smells like fresh sweat and home. 

They end up on the bed with Rocket tucked against Kraglin’s chest. Yondu’s at his back, petting up and down Rocket’s side between yawns.

“I still gotta get three more pairs o’ underwears in that case,” he mutters sleepily

“I’ll pack your shit for you in the morning,” Rocket grunts. He’s really comfy right now, and his leg keeps twitching when Yondu pets the right spot. He used to get self conscious about that, but they don’t seem to care.

“‘S what he was hopin’ for in the first place,” says Kraglin.

Yondu grunts but doesn’t bother defending himself.

Rocket don’t mind; it means Yondu’s deferring to his superior packing skills. Three pairs of underwear’s nothing, and it’ll give Rocket a chance to get rid of those gross ones without Yondu fishing them outta the trash like a hobo. No wonder Quill likes his fancy shit.

He yawns widely and licks at some leftover come on his face. It’s all gonna be an itchy mess in the morning, but the longer he lets it sit the longer he’ll be able to smell them. So he can marinate overnight and no one will be the wiser.


	2. Chapter 2

“Is it always so bright on Xandar?” asks Mantis, squinting in the morning sunlight. They’re all standing in front of the little office where Quill is checking them into their cabins, and she hasn’t untangled herself from Nebula since they got off the _Milano._

“Yep,” Kraglin tells her shortly. He looks around at all the nature surrounding them with a scowl. 

Rocket wants to touch him, but they don’t do that when there’s people around. So he distracts himself by checking his bag one more time.

Maybe Quill and Gamora can handle being away from each other for three weeks with no privacy—that ain’t Rocket’s business. But he don’t much like the idea, so after he got up early to pack Yondu’s case and disappear the nasty underwear again, he got a few short-range comm units and tweaked them. This way they can check in and Rocket will know the two dumbasses are still okay. 

Kraglin looked delighted when Rocket told him, although Rocket thinks that has more to do with pulling one over on Quill than anything else. Still, they both know how to reach Rocket. Just in case.

Maybe he should have gotten some for Mantis and Nebula, he thinks as he watches Nebula wind her entire body around Mantis like a creepy blue cat. Those two go heavy on the public displays of affection now that they ain’t camping on the _Starhawk_ anymore. It’s a little uncomfortable to watch, actually. 

Gamora seems to think so too, because she’s determinedly looking away from them and scanning the treeline like she’s waiting for an attack.

Yeah. She’s gonna be a barrel of laughs.

At least Groot’s having fun, from the way he’s bent over a flower staring at it raptly. The damn kid had a growth spurt last month that’s left him half Rocket’s height. 

Rocket ain’t dealing so good with that, but at least Yondu’s sympathetic.

“Why’s this flower better than the one next to it?” he asks, squatting next to Groot and giving the yellow blossom a skeptical look.

“I am Groot.”

“It needs more help? So what’re you gonna do, sing to it?”

“I am Groot.”

Rocket rolls his eyes. “Oh, sure. I wouldn’t understand. Okay. Have fun with your flower, Groot.” He gets to his feet.

“It’s important to him,” Gamora says behind him. “You don’t have to understand.”

“You read that in a parenting book?” Rocket asks sourly. He might be a little possessive of Groot.

She’s got her arms crossed when he turns to look at her, and her pretty mouth is pinched disapprovingly. “ _This_ is how you want to spend the week?”

It makes him bristle, as Gamora so often does, but a soft, happy sound from Groot distracts him. When he looks over, the little yellow flower is twice its size and Groot is beaming at them.

“Huh,” he says faintly.

“Okay guys, I’ve got key cards for everyone!” Quill claps his hands twice and looks around. “Gamora, here’s the keys for your cabin.”

Rocket scowls in outrage as Quill gives them to her and not him. Quill doesn’t notice, moving down the line to give Yondu his keys.

“Where’s mine?” Kraglin asks, and Rocket adores that man as he holds out a hand and levels Quill with a look.

“Right here, I got it.”

“Hand it over.”

Quill stares. “Are you serious?”

“Yep.” 

“Oh my god.” Quill hands the key over and rolls his eyes.

Rocket turns to Gamora, plastering a shiteating grin on his face, and finds her already holding the key out. He blinks.

“Do you want it?” she asks. Challenging.

Rocket eyes her suspiciously and takes it. “Thanks.”

She inclines her head and scoops Groot up easily; Rocket seethes a little. “Come on,” she tells him. “I want to see what we’re dealing with.”

“How hard it’s gonna be to booby trap, you mean.” 

“Yes.”

“I am Groot.” 

“You can talk to the other trees when we get settled. You got all week to make friends, now chill.”

Gamora sighs. “We don’t really need defenses for the camp,” she says, almost like she’s trying to convince herself. “We’re on Xandar in a park that civilians use all the time.”

“Like that’s gonna stop you from bein’ jumpy all week,” says Rocket smugly. 

She glares at him and he laughs. “Yeah. You think I don’t see you. Havin’ your shit together better than your sister ain’t sayin’ much.”

Her jaw tightens and she starts walking faster.

“I got four legs, you know!” he yells, but he doesn’t miss her satisfied expression when he has to scamper to keep up.

The cabin, when they get there, can politely be called rustic. Rocket’s never been polite before and ain’t about to start now, so he just says it’s a dump.

“Peter picked this?” Gamora asks faintly. 

“I am Groot!” Groot wiggles out of her arms and makes a beeline for a clump of trees.

Rocket sighs. “There better be plumbing.”

“Yes, there better be,” Gamora agrees through her teeth.

Well, only one way to find out. Rocket follows Gamora into the cabin. He’s pleasantly surprised to see that it’s clean inside, with a rudimentary kitchen along one wall and some furniture throughout. The back of the cabin has a bathroom and two bedrooms on either end of the little hallway.

“Cool, we don’t have to kill Quill,” says Rocket as he stands on the couch.

Gamora hums in agreement. She’s got her hands on her hips as she surveys the little cabin.

“Ain’t that defensible,” says Rocket quietly.

She looks at him sharply. “No,” she agrees.

“Good thing we’re in a park on Xandar where nothing bad can possibly happen.” He might be remembering the way they all got shipped off to prison without a trial.

Gamora bares her teeth. Good; he likes her better when she ain’t trying to be soft. “What do you have in your bag?”

“I’m glad you asked. As it so happens, I have a bunch of goodies that’ll keep everyone out of our camp. It won’t even kill ‘em.” He grins.

“Let’s see.”

So he lays out his little inventions, preening over each of them because dammit, he’s good. Gamora gives them a critical once over and immediately starts suggesting the most logical places for them around the outside of the cabin.

“We oughta see what’s outside,” he says.

“That was my next move.” Gamora straightens out of her crouch next to him, and they go back outside.

There’s trees everywhere, which might make Groot happy but which sucks for visibility. They’re gonna have to rig a perimeter. Good thing Rocket has motion sensors.

Gamora smiles a little when he pulls them out. “I do appreciate how over prepared you are,” she tells him.

Rocket grins as they set everything up along the treeline. If he knows Nebula, she’s got Kraglin fortifying their camp too while Quill unpacks and plays house. And between Yondu at long range and Drax at short, their camp’s covered too. 

Everyone’s gonna be just fine.

“I am Groot,” comes Groot’s confused voice from behind them.

Rocket freezes. “What do you mean, these are stupid?”

“I am Groot.”

“Animals? What about ‘em?”

Groot heaves a sigh. “I am _Groot._ ”

“No, I’ve never spent time in nature before! Why would I?” Rocket turns back to him, irritated.

“I am Groot,” Groot says very patiently.

“What is it?” asks Gamora.

“He says animals have trails all through here, so our motion sensors are gonna go off all night an’ keep us awake.”

To his relief, she looks as taken aback as he feels. Then her expression twists, just for a second, into something nasty before the mask of calm comes back up. “That’s a good point. Thank you, Groot. We’ll make a new plan.”

Rocket eyes her and wonders suddenly how well she’s gonna cope without Quill around to steady her. He hasn’t exactly given a lot of thought to how those two work—him and Quill have a pact to never talk about that stuff—but it occurs to him that she needs Quill way more than anyone on the outside realizes.

“You coulda mentioned it before I was halfway done,” Rocket mutters.

Groot rolls his eyes.

It’s mid afternoon by the time they get the camp secured to everyone’s satisfaction. Rocket’s panting, and Gamora’s got an unfairly pretty glow about her as she sweats in the sun. Nebula sweats; why the fuck does Gamora still look like a model? It’s weird, Rocket decides. Not natural.

At least she stinks, he thinks vindictively. Not even Gamora’s immune to B.O. when she works out.

But he’s gracious enough to let her have the first shower. Means he won’t have to listen to her bitch about fur clogging the drain, anyway. Rocket waits until the water’s running and then pulls out his comm.

“This ain’t a good time,” Kraglin hisses.

“Why? Did Nebula kill Quill yet?” Rocket grins.

“Nah, but it won’t be long, an’ then her sister an’ Yondu are gonna have t’ fight Bug over killin’ her.” 

Rocket snickers. “I’ll rescue you from the bloodbath, I promise.” He pauses. “How is Quill? Without Gamora around, I mean.”

“Fine. Why?”

“Nothin’.” Rocket sighs and flicks an ear toward the bathroom. “Shit. Waters’s off. I’ll check in later.”

“See ya.”

“I am Groot.” Groot’s got his hands on his hips when Rocket tucks the comm back in his bag.

“Yeah, that’s why you ain’t gonna tell her.” Rocket narrows his eyes. 

“I am Groot?”

“What do you mean, what’s in it for you? Don’t blackmail me, I’m the fun one!”

“I am Groot.”

“Turd,” mutters Rocket. “See if I keep lettin’ Yondu sneak you candy after Quill says no.”

Groot’s eyes get big and he hastily backtracks with “I am Groot!”

“That’s what I thought.” Rocket hops onto a chair and watches Groot scramble up next to him. He slips an arm around the kid when he snuggles in close. Groot smells like warm leaves and soft bark, and that might be Rocket’s favorite smell of all.

“I’m finished.” Gamora eyes them both fondly. She looks out the window. “It’s getting late. Should we prepare some food?”

“I could eat. You cookin’?” Rocket raises an eyebrow at her. Thinking back, sticking the two decent cooks in the same camp was an oversight on their part.

The look Gamora gives him tells him she’s thinking the same thing. “I think we have some ration packs in my bag.”

“We do. I packed extra for this week. Rest of the time we’ll be with decent cooks.” He pauses to think. “Well. I will, anyway.” She’s got a week with Yondu and Nebula.

Gamora gives him a sour look. “Do you always have to do this?” she asks, shaking her head as she goes for her bag.

“I didn’t do shit this time!” He feels compelled to defend himself. “This whole stupid idea was because you wanted to go along with Quill! He ain’t gonna dump you because you tell him his ideas are stupid.”

She actually flinches.

“I am Groot?” Groot whispers, and Rocket suddenly feels like shit for fighting in front of the kid.

He glances guiltily at Groot, and then at Gamora’s back. She’s tense, shoulders up protectively, and the sight of it reminds Rocket of Yondu when Stakar used to come around. “Sorry,” he says softly.

She doesn’t turn.

“I can get the ration packs,” he offers, sliding out of the chair and giving Groot a little pat on the way to his bag. “Maybe we can start a fire? Burning shit’s fun, whattaya say, Groot?”

“I am Groot?”

“Sure, you can melt the candy on a stick like Quill talked about. But you’re gonna drink all your water, right?”

Groot pouts at him.

“Do as Rocket says,” Gamora tells Groot tonelessly.

“I am Groot.” He slides out of the chair and goes to the faucet, sulking the whole time.

Rocket and Gamora are both quiet as they watch him soak his roots in the sink, and Rocket nods at the defiant look Groot throws him when he’s done.

“Yeah, that’s enough. Wanna go pick out a good spot for the fire?”

Groot nods and hops off the sink. He leaves a trail of water all the way to the door on his way out.

Rocket stares after him before crossing his arms. “So,” he says into the silence of the room, “I figure we got at least twenty minutes before he tries to set something on fire, so you mind sharing what’s crawled up your ass?”

She doesn’t answer, so he tries again. “You an’ Quill ain’t havin’ problems, are you?”

“Why can’t you just leave things alone?” she snarls, spinning around to pin him with a glare. “You have to _pick_ at people until they snap! Why is that? Does it make you feel better about yourself?”

Rocket takes a step back. “Holy shit. I didn’t think you were that close to snapping.”

Gamora growls, and Rocket holds his hands up in surrender. “You know I actually like you, right?”

“You have an interesting way of showing it.” She goes to her bag and starts digging around.

“I talk shit with everyone,” he protests. “Hell, I even do it with Kraglin.”

“I don’t see you do it with Nebula,” she says tightly.

Rocket tilts his head. “I don’t do it with Mantis either,” he says. Testing.

Her head snaps up and she levels him with a look that would make a lesser man piss himself.

Luckily Rocket’s used to her. “That’s what I thought,” he says with a smirk. “Look, you were my friend first. You wanna tell me your girl troubles an’ brush my hair after Groot’s asleep? Fine. I got a bottle of rotgut in my bag.”

Gamora looks torn between anger and something more thoughtful. “I can’t get drunk,” she mutters. “Peter’s tried.”

“Why was Quill tryin’ to get you drunk?”

“It wasn’t like that!” She flushes a dark green.

Rocket snickers. “Okay, Gamora. So you can’t get drunk. Lucky for you I swiped a couple good huffer sticks from Yondu’s stash while I was packin’ his shit this morning. You ain’t immune to that, are you?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never tried.” Gamora looks tempted for a second and then shakes her head. “We can’t. What about Groot?”

“He’ll be asleep. Live a little.” Rocket raises his eyebrows.

Gamora narrows her eyes in response. “We’ll see,” she says ominously, but it ain’t a no, and that’s close enough to a win for Rocket. 

—

It takes Groot twenty-five minutes to pick a fire spot and get all the candy assembled. He forgets all the shit that’s actually necessary to start the fire.

Gamora bites back her smile as she praises his choice, and Rocket rolls his eyes and builds them a nice little fire ringed with stones and a force field to keep it from spreading.

Groot immediately tosses a sticky candy into the flames. They watch it crisp up and start to char.

“Let’s find you a stick,” Gamora says after the candy bursts into flames.

“I am Groot.”

She takes his hand, and Rocket watches the deadliest woman in the galaxy lead a little tree off to find a stick so he can toast candy.

Even he’s gotta admit it’s pretty cute.

He looks up at the sky. Out here there’s less light pollution and he can see the stars winking down at him. They always look weird from a planet’s surface; Rocket’s associated space with good stuff too long to love being stuck on some rock, even if it is the center of the galaxy.

He wonders what Yondu thinks of the stars. 

“I am Groot!” 

Rocket turns in time to get thwacked in the face with Groot’s candy stick. “ _Ow!_ What the hell, kid?”

“I am Groot.” Groot bites his lip.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Fuck.” Rocket rubs his snout. “Go on, get your candy on there. An’ try not to put anyone’s eye out. I ain’t building prosthetics out here.”

Groot ignores him as soon as he realizes he isn’t in trouble and starts stacking candies on the stick.

Gamora squats next to him, smirking. “You weren’t paying attention.”

“Nope. Definitely would’ve lost that fight. Good thing all my limbs are already artificial,” he tells her.

She blinks, and then her expression closes off. “And your skeleton is grafted with metal.”

“Yep.” Rocket tilts his head, watching Groot happily setting his candies on fire. One catches and spreads down the stick until Groot has to blow them all out frantically. “Think we should help him?”

“I have water here in case he needs it.” Gamora frowns as Groot thrusts the stick right back into the fire again. “How do you think the others are doing?”

“Yondu and Drax are gonna be fine, an’ Mantis is easy to hang with.”

“I meant Peter,” she says softly.

“Eh, I give Kraglin about two days before he tries to throw him in the lake,” says Rocket cheerfully. “Nebula’s the wild card there.”

“She always is.” Gamora sounds bitter.

“Meaning what?” Rocket gives her a narrow look. “She ain’t said nothin’ to me about not liking Quill. I mean, she thinks he’s dumb, but that ain’t new.”

Gamora glares at him. “Where does she get off thinking Peter’s stupid? He never would have tried sneaking out at night to steal more food when it was _obvious_ that Thanos left the kitchens unguarded as a test!” She huffs. “I tried to stop her, but she’s so stubborn. We both got tortured for that.”

Every time Rocket thinks he’s got a handle on how messed up their family is, he finds more evidence to show him that no, he’s got no idea. “Yeah, I hate when that happens,” he says.

She startles and then looks down, like she’s embarrassed. 

He takes pity on her. “In Nebula’s defense, I used to sneak out all the time too. I probably got brain damage from all the times they gassed me to get me back to my cage.”

“I’m glad you killed that woman,” Gamora tells him quietly.

Rocket grunts. He’s done swapping childhood memories. Maybe he’ll pull that one out again the next time Quill starts bitching about Yondu. Quill’s shit is positively wholesome compared to Gamora and Rocket’s early years.

“I am Groot!” When he blinks out of his reverie, Groot’s waving his stick around happily with an entirely new stack of flaming candies on it. His whole head and chest are sticky.

“Awesome,” Rocket mutters dryly.

—

Convincing Groot to take a bath is a long process involving a lot of negotiation—or it is when it’s just Rocket. Gamora scoops him up without a word and dumps him in the bath, where Rocket can hear his angry yelling from all the way outside.

He pulls out his comm and signals for Yondu, and scowls when he gets a click back that tells him it’s not a good time. He tries Kraglin again.

Takes a minute; when Kraglin answers he sounds breathless. “What’s up, Rocket?” 

“Just seein’ if you killed Quill yet.”

There’s a weird burst of background noise and suddenly Quill’s voice yells “you fucking cheater! Rocket—”

Rocket’s mouth falls open as Nebula grunts loudly and Quill’s voice breaks off into muffled yelling. “Uhhhh....what the fuck?” he asks politely.

“Nothin’,” Kraglin grunts. “Nebula, watch him, he’s squirmy—shit!”

“You bit me!” roars Nebula.

“Oh my god, that was your boob. I’m so sorry, don’t tell Gamor-ahhh!”

Rocket closes the comm.

They’re fine.

He blinks a few times and claps his hands over his face as an ugly snort escapes him. Quill picked the groups, after all. Serves him right.

He pulls it together enough to give Groot a big grin and a hug before he’s bundled off to bed. He still has a faint smoky smell to him, but Rocket figures he did set a lot of candy on fire. Good thing the fresh air tired him out; usually with that much sugar he’s wired for hours.

Gamora reads Groot his bedtime story while Rocket clicks his comm fondly back and forth with Yondu. He tucks it away when he hears her finish up and grabs the booze and the huffer sticks.

“I wonder what Peter’s up to,” muses Gamora when she joins him on the front step.

Rocket says nothing. He just lights up a huffer stick and passes it over.

She takes it gingerly and looks at it before setting her jaw and taking a hit. It makes her cough, and Rocket’s nice enough to take it from her hand.

“Guess I shouldn’t be surprised you never smoked before.” He grins.

“It certainly wasn’t encouraged.” She takes the huffer back and inhales again. This time she doesn’t cough.

“Well, don’t go too fast. This is good shit.” Rocket’s pretty sure Aleta gave it to Yondu. She’s cool like that. He plucks it out of Gamora’s fingers and takes a drag himself. It is good shit; he grins and exhales through his nose, enjoying the curl of the smoke in the night air.

It never takes a lot to get him high. Being small don’t have a ton of advantages, but it does let him spend less on drugs when he wants them. 

“How long does this take to kick in?” Gamora asks.

“Couple minutes.” Rocket pinches the end until it dies. Why waste it? Besides, he can be responsible and keep Gamora from getting stoned off her ass. 

“You’re drinking too?” She don’t need to judge him that hard. He gets the top off the bottle just as the huffer starts to take effect. Perfect; the burn of the booze down his throat is sweeter than usual. 

“Shut up an’ enjoy your buzz,” he tells her. She’s bigger than him, and all weirdly augmented. Maybe it takes her longer to feel it.

“I wish I could get drunk. I’d drink with Peter and then maybe I could tell him stupid stories.” There it is. “He was so lonely on Earth, Rocket. All he had was his mother, and she _died._ ”

Rocket nods absently. “Yeah, I know all about Quill’s sob story. He never shuts up about it.”

“I want to kill anyone who ever hurt him,” she confesses.

Rocket nods again. He feels that way about Yondu and Kraglin too.

“And Yondu...” That gets Rocket to turn back to her as her face twists up. “I don’t understand Peter and Yondu. The stories I’ve heard from Peter...” Gamora sighs. “Good parents don’t do those things to their children.”

Rocket eyes her. “Think Yondu’d be the first to tell you he wasn’t a good parent,” he says.

“But Peter thinks he is. Even when he’s angry at Yondu he won’t listen to anything I have to say about him.”

“You’re thinkin’ I’m gonna be better about that?”

“You were the one who left him to die,” she says with a shrug.

It lands like a barb, and Rocket looks away, stung. “We ain’t all like you an’ Quill,” he mutters. 

She shakes her head, like she doesn’t know that was the hardest decision of his life. “I could never do that.”

“I know. That’s why I zapped you.” It’s the first time he’s brought it up.

“How?” Gamora’s eyes burn into him; he still doesn’t turn. “How could you leave like that?”

“He said I had to take care of Groot.”

“There had to be another way.”

“There wasn’t,” Rocket snaps. “Maybe you’d rather stay an’ die with someone you love, but I ain’t you, an’ I wasn’t gonna deny the guy a chance at redemption just because I’m selfish.”

Gamora blinks. “Redemption,” she muses. “That makes more sense. He wanted to die to atone.”

Now that Rocket thinks about it, she didn’t really spend a lot of time around Yondu after the Ego shit went down. She and Quill went to ground while they worked their own shit out. “You been listenin’ to Quill work out his daddy issues,” he realizes.

She nods.

“An’ you seen me in rough patches a couple times when they gave me space.”

“Yes.” She sounds a little hesitant now.

“So what, you decided Yondu ain’t a great person an’ you just put up with him for Quill?” Rocket finally turns to look at her.

She looks offended and guilty all at once. “Yondu kidnapped him as a child!”

“How the hell do you live with yourself with that black and white morality you’re carryin’ around?” he snaps.

She rears back like he slapped her and bumps into the handrail for the steps. When she finishes rubbing the back of her head, she pins Rocket with a glare. 

Rocket raises his eyebrows. 

“I—” She looks down and clenches her hands where they rest on her thighs. “I’m trying to atone too. I’m a good person. I _want_ to be a good person.”

“Congrats.” Rocket rolls his eyes. When she glares again, he shrugs. “You were kind of a hypocrite when we met an’ that ain’t changed.”

“I’m not a hypocrite!”

“Like hell you ain’t. You got a reason for all the evil shit you did, but other people who do the same shit? They’re bad people.” Rocket takes an insolent swig of booze.

Gamora’s mouth falls open. “This is about Nebula,” she says softly.

“No shit. But you got beef with Mantis too, so what the fuck is that about? Even I like Mantis and she _petted me!_ ”

Gamora frowns. “Mantis is fine.”

“You’re so full of shit I’m surprised your eyes ain’t turnin’ brown.”

“Disgusting. Where did you even hear that?”

“Aleta said it to Stakar. Point is, you’re full of it. You really believe your own bullshit or do you just say it and hope it’s true?”

She opens her mouth furiously and then snaps it shut again. 

And Rocket laughs, because he knows it’ll piss her off and now that he’s got her here he wants to see what it looks like when she breaks. “Yeah, you know. Deep down, you know who you really are.”

“ _Stop it,_ ” she growls, but if Rocket won’t back down for Kraglin he’s sure not gonna back down for Gamora.

“Sucks when someone sees through all the crap you stack up around yourself, don’t it?” he asks, grinning. He points the bottle at her. “That’s why you hate Mantis, isn’t it? You can’t lie to her.”

“Oh, do you want to talk about bullshit?” snaps Gamora. “You? The _entire_ reason we didn’t have a ship to escape Ego under our own power? The reason the Sovereign still want us dead? _You_ are one of the most unbelievably selfish people I’ve ever met!”

“But I admit it!” he yells back.

It echoes around the clearing and they both hold their breath, listening for Groot. When nothing comes, Rocket points at Gamora and hisses, “your problem ain’t that you’re fucked up, Gamora. We’re all fucked up. Your problem is that you pretend you’re not.”

Gamora hugs herself, and Rocket can see her fingers digging into her skin, little pale green points on her arms as she tries to burrow inside herself. To keep it contained.

“You act so high and mighty like you got all your shit together, when in fact you’re the most scared of all. You got yourself wound up so tight an’ you know someday somebody’s gonna nudge just a _little_ too hard and it’s all gonna come crumbling down. That why you were so scared to admit you wanted to fuck Quill? Because he might get too close and see what a spectacular shitshow you are?”

He never sees her move; one minute he’s pointing the bottle at her face and the next he’s flat on his back and his gut is on fire. He rolls over and promptly vomits into the grass. “Guess I deserved that,” he wheezes.

Gamora’s standing over him with a clenched, upraised fist, her face twisted into something monstrous. For a second he thinks she’s actually gonna go for her sword, but then she sways a bit on her feet and bursts into tears.

She ain’t a pretty crier. Her whole face contorts as she doubles over, hugging herself tightly. 

“Oh shit.” Somehow Rocket didn’t think tears were on the table. Fuck. He needs an adult. 

Gamora bows her head, sobs wracking her whole body. Her hair hangs in her face and Rocket can’t see her, but he can hear her shaky whispers.

Slowly, one hand over his aching belly, he sits up and stares at her. “Gamora?”

She snaps her head up and bares her teeth, looking deranged. “ _Look what you did!_ ” 

His eyebrows shoot up. “Quill never pushed you,” he says softly.

“No,” she sobs, sitting heavily on the ground and covering her face with her hands. “He _respects_ me.”

“So do I.” Rocket huffs and sits next to her. The grass is damp and the whole ass of his suit is wet. “Might as well crack here. I got no room to judge you.”

“You’re an asshole,” she sniffles resentfully.

He nods. “But I’m usually not wrong.”

“She could have _died,_ Rocket,” Gamora whispers. “Why would she do that for him?”

Rocket gives the bottle of booze a mournful look. It’s empty now, poured onto the unappreciative grass. “You don’t get Nebula at all, do you?”

“No.” Her voice is small. “I thought I did.”

“I’d tell you to ask her, but she’s as weird around you as you are around her. Probably just make her defensive.” He shifts a little, wincing. Gamora doesn’t pull her punches. Or maybe she kicked him; he honestly didn’t see.

She glances at him. “So are you going to tell me or just dangle it there?”

“She saved him for you, stupid.” 

Gamora looks away. “I don’t know what to do with that,” she says softly.

“I know that feeling.”

“Do you? You don’t have the history we do.”

“No, but I get not bein’ able to handle someone lovin’ you. That’s why I was an ass the first couple months we were all together.”

That gets him a snort. “That makes sense. But you got past that.” Something in her voice goes hard when she says, “and if you can do it, then I can too.”

“Competitive much?” Rocket rolls his eyes. “You wanna know what changed? Yondu.”

She frowns.

And Rocket looks ahead, embarrassed. “He saw right through me. All the stupid shit I told myself to push you guys away. Called me scared.”

Her eyes narrow. “He had no right to push you like that.”

“I needed a push,” he says shortly. “Yondu knew exactly what I was doin’ because he’d done it too. Ran off everyone who ever cared about him an’ figured maybe I could learn from his mistakes.”

“Peter says you’re exactly the same person,” she murmurs.

“We are.”

She lets out a heavy sigh. “Nebula and I are opposites. I don’t understand her at all. I don’t understand Mantis. I miss our family when it was just us.”

“Even if you don’t get her, it’s gotta be nice havin’ her on your side.” Rocket scowls and digs at his suit where it’s climbing up his asscrack. “You’re not still worried she’s gonna snap an’ try anything, right? If you were you wouldn’t have testified for her.”

“I owed her that. I took the stone and left her there with Ronan.” Gamora bows her head.

“But you really thought she was all in with Thanos, right?” 

“I don’t know,” she whispers. “I—don’t you know how it is? How you tell yourself things to survive?”

“Shit.” Rocket looks up at the stars. “They didn’t turn us against each other,” he finally says. “Not like he did to you guys. We were kept apart.”

“I don’t know what was true,” Gamora whispers, and Rocket gets it. Some shit’s too big and ugly to say out loud. And if you’ve gotta say it, you say it softly. “That’s the worst part, Rocket. _I don’t know_ how much of it was just lies I told myself to keep going.”

The words sound ripped out of her, and Rocket keeps staring at the sky to give her space. “You’re scared to find out.”

He can see her nod from the corner of his eye.

“Don’t you talk about this stuff with Quill?” Rocket knows the answer before he asks; Quill would never make Gamora carry anything this big alone.

“I can’t.”

“Horse shit.”

“He wouldn’t understand, Rocket! He’s too—” She shakes her head. “Peter thinks I’m amazing. And I love that about him, I do. He makes me _feel_ like I’m amazing. But...”

“But you’re all this other crap too.” Rocket nods. 

She rubs her hands harshly over her face. “I want to be a good person,” she says again. “I’m trying so hard to be the person Peter sees when he looks at me.”

“You don’t think he’s smart enough to see what’s there?” Rocket frowns. “Gamora, he ain’t really the type to cut an’ run just because you ain’t perfect. If that was the case he’d have dropped you a long time ago.”

She glares at him. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I understand you got impossible standards an’ you been beating yourself up for not meetin’ ‘em. And I’ve seen firsthand what happens when you let your issues fester. It ain’t pretty.” He studies her tear stained face. “Sooner or later it comes out.”

She sniffles. “My survival depended on keeping my feelings hidden.”

“But it doesn’t anymore. You don’t wanna keep living like that. It made you miserable.”

Gamora bows her head. “And you just changed overnight?” she asks bitterly. “Just because Yondu pushed you?”

Rocket sighs. “It’s like having a pimple,” he says after searching for a metaphor.

She gives him a disgusted look.

“No, stick with me. Say you got a massive zit, and it’s all full of pus an’ it hurts when you push on it. So you don’t push on it, right? You leave it alone ‘cause it hurts less. But then someone tells you you gotta pop that thing.”

Gamora’s face scrunches up. “I see what you’re getting at now. Why are you so disgusting?”

“It was all I could think of!” Rocket throws up his hands. “And also Kraglin’s back broke out last week, so it’s been on my mind.”

“ _Ugh._ ” Gamora looks away.

“Oh, like Quill never gets zits on his ass. Anyway, you don’t wanna pop your feelings pimple ‘cause you know it’s gonna hurt and be really gross. It’s been getting bigger every year and it’s probably gonna look like a damn volcano when it goes.”

She shifts uncomfortably on the grass, but Rocket thinks she’s stopped crying. “So you’re...popping my feelings pimple?”

“Yes! Because I’m your friend.” Rocket nods.

Her expression says she’s reconsidering that. “Peter tries to get me to open up,” she murmurs. “And I want to, I just—every time I’ve ever wanted anything, it was used against me. I can’t stop thinking that this is going to come back to bite me too.”

Rocket studies her. “Yondu did that too, you know. Tried to back out. That’s what his trip with his old buddies was about, before we got the Quadrant upgraded. He got scared when things started goin’ right.”

“I’m not running away,” she snaps.

“No, you ain’t like Yondu. You don’t retreat, you close up like a little crab.” Rocket holds his hands up to illustrate the size of the crab in question.

“So I’m a crab with a feelings pimple?” She glares at him.

“Yep. Time to open up and pop that sucker. Let out all the gross shit you been keeping inside.” 

“So you can bring it up the next time you’re angry at me?” Gamora raises an eyebrow.

“I won’t.” He looks at her seriously. “Told you, I actually like you. It was you who came to talk to me when I was all messed up. Sometimes the people you’re fucking ain’t the best ones to get through to you.”

That makes her look away. “I love Peter,” she whispers.

“He knows that.”

“If Thanos ever comes for us and he finds that out...” Gamora hugs herself again and rocks a little. “He murdered my parents in front of me, Rocket. So I would know there was no one left to help me. He knew I loved Nebula, so he pitted me against her all the time. He made me choose between my own life and her—and I chose myself.” She’s crying again, hiding her face in her arms like a kid. “She hates me for it. Still. And I can’t even blame her, because I hate her too. People aren’t supposed to hate their sisters, Rocket, but I do.”

If this was Yondu or Kraglin breaking down, Rocket would reach out and touch them. But Gamora’s different. He settles for scooting closer to her. “You don’t just hate her.”

“No,” she whispers. “But I don’t just love her either.”

“I ain’t gonna judge anyone for what they did to survive,” says Rocket. “Everything I’ve heard about Thanos is sick. Really sick, an’ I was awake when they took out my spine.”

She peers at him, resting her cheek on her knees where she has them drawn up to her chest. “No wonder Nebula likes you.”

He shrugs. “Me an’ her have some things in common. Still, you been through some shit I can’t even imagine. Of course you did horrible stuff to keep from dying. You were a _kid_. Gonna blame Quill for stealing because Yondu made him? Or Yondu for killin’ other kids on the Kree’s orders when he was a slave? How about Mantis for letting Ego kill all Quill’s siblings?”

“God.” Gamora closes her eyes and turns her face away. “I don’t know. I don’t _know!_ If anything is okay as long as you did it to save your own life, then what does it even mean to be good? Why bother with morality at all?”

“When you got the power to choose your own way, that’s when it matters.” Rocket reaches out and then thinks better of it. “You left as soon as you could. Didn’t wanna let anyone else die. Pretty sure that counts as good. An’ you been saving the galaxy since then.”

“You talked about atonement. How am I supposed to atone for the things I’ve done?” 

“By bein’ good. Doing everything you’re already doing.” Rocket shrugs. “Makin’ shit better where you can.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“For me it is. You can’t change the past, so why torture yourself about it? Didn’t Thanos torture you enough?”

When he looks at her again, she’s staring at him. It makes him squirm a little. “What?”

“I haven’t been thinking about it like that,” she says softly.

Rocket looks down. “You told me,” he says slowly, “that living in the present is more important than anything in the past. I never forgot that.”

“I can’t remember what I told you. I know I was worried.”

“Well, that’s what you said. I dunno where you picked it up, but it was good. You gotta pop your feelings pimple, clean that crap out, an’ then focus on what we got now. ‘Cause it’s good.”

“It is good,” she whispers. She sounds like she might start crying again.

“Hey.” He headbutts her elbow. “We’re family, right? If we put up with me bein’ an asshole and Yondu’s dick family and Drax’s nipples, we can handle anything you’ve got.”

That gets him a smile, even if it’s small. He’ll take it. “I suppose.” 

He grins. “I think I’m done squeezing your feelings pimple for now.”

“Can you be done with that metaphor then? It’s really gross.”

“Dare you to think of a better one.”

She makes a face. “You’re so disgusting.”

“It’s part of my charm. Is your ass soaked? Because my ass is really wet an’ I kinda hate it.” Rocket pushes to his feet.

“It’s pretty wet,” she agrees, rubbing her face before she stands too. 

They look around the clearing, both of them instinctively checking for threats, before Rocket stretches carefully. “Okay. I dunno about you, but I could sleep.”

Gamora nods. “Me too.” She looks down at him. “Rocket...”

He blinks. “What?”

She opens her mouth, but Rocket never hears what she’s about to say. Something small crashes through the underbrush and sets the motion sensors off. Several birds take flight from the surrounding trees at the sound.

A second later, a fuzzy animal pokes its head into the clearing.

Gamora growls, Rocket sighs, and from the cabin he can hear a smug “I am Groot!”


	3. Chapter 3

Groot’s a smug little shit the whole next morning, kicking his feet while Rocket and Gamora silently drink their coffee. She doesn’t need it, but they all got her in the habit and now she actually joins them for quiet contemplation and waking up.

Rocket and Gamora are the earliest risers of the Guardians, so this hanging out in the mornings not talking while Groot eats some real food to counteract the candy is pretty normal. Usually Drax will clomp in halfway through Groot’s breakfast, and then Mantis and Nebula join them. Kraglin floats in like a shadow whenever he wakes up, Yondu and Quill yawning behind him. Once the whole gang’s there, then conversation happens, but Rocket likes the quiet times with Gamora best.

She’s really good with Groot. Rocket watches her tear his food into pieces that are just the right size for little trees to pop in their mouths. It makes him feel vaguely guilty about how possessive he is over the kid.

“Where’d you learn how to deal with him?” he asks as Groot stuffs his face.

Gamora blinks. “What do you mean?”

“You’re just real good at it, that’s all.” Rocket takes a casual sip of his coffee.

She tilts her head. “When it became clear that Groot was going to be a baby, I did some research,” she says after a moment. “He deserved a good childhood.”

Rocket nods, staring half into the space behind Groot’s head. “You ain’t wrong.”

“I still have some of the books on my datapad,” she offers hesitantly. “If you want to look.”

His throat tightens up, because he sees now what that offer costs her. “That’d be cool, yeah,” he says roughly.

They’re both competitive, and being the best parent to Groot is one of the places where they used to clash. Rocket ain’t sure why Quill don’t seem as threatening, but for whatever reason he isn’t. 

“We’re stronger together,” Gamora murmurs. Like she knows he needed the reminder.

“Yeah.” He flashes her a smile and then looks at Groot. “Well,” he says, “we don’t got any plans today, so I figure we should make some or we’re gonna get bored. You wanna sit around here doin’ nothing all day?”

Groot shakes his head.

“Me either. I was thinkin’ about exploring the woods, but let’s see if you guys got anything better.”

“There’s a lake,” Gamora points out. “The map indicated it was only about a fifteen minute walk from here.”

Groot brightens up. “I am Groot?”

“I think there’s sand,” Rocket says. “We can find out.”

“I am Groot!”

So they go to the lake. The path goes through the woods, so it’s kind of a win-win. Groot keeps running off into the trees to chase bugs and shit, which means it takes them more like forty minutes to actually get to the lake.

Rocket smells him before he sees the flash of blue, and has to resist the urge to fling himself at Yondu like some needy loser.

“I am Groot!” Groot takes off running toward Drax where he’s leading a very hesitant Mantis into the lake.

Yondu looks over and waves. “Hey there.”

“Why are you still wearin’ five hundred layers on the beach?” Rocket demands.

“You jus’ wanna get my clothes off.” Yondu leers at him. 

“Yep, that’s what it is.” Rocket rolls his eyes, but he’s glad to have him here.

Gamora settles their towels next to Yondu. “We didn’t realize you would be here,” she says.

Yondu shrugs. “Was either this or sit around listenin’ to Drax bitch about gettin’ chewed on by bugs.”

“You had problems with bugs?” Gamora frowns at Yondu and then looks at Rocket. “I didn’t notice anything.”

“Yeah, they don’t like me or Bug either, but whatever he is it’s mighty tasty to them li’l suckers.”

They all watch as Mantis suddenly slaps Drax’s shoulder. She checks her hand and they share a triumphant grin.

“That’s sweet,” says Rocket.

Yondu snorts. 

Gamora’s looking like she’s not quite comfortable, so Rocket takes pity on her. “So where’d Aleta get those huffer sticks of yours? We oughta get more.”

“Why you stealin’ my shit?” Yondu asks narrowly.

“Make your shit harder to steal if you don’t want me takin’ it. Turns out Gamora here can’t get drunk, so it’s a good thing I brought ‘em along.”

“Rocket!” hisses Gamora. She flushes when Yondu gives her a considering look.

“Can’t get drunk, huh?” He grins. “No wonder it took Quill so long t’ get you t’ like him. Buyin’ girls drinks was always his first move.”

She sets her jaw, and Rocket sighs. “Dumbass. You bring up all the other people you used to bang in front of Kraglin?”

Yondu blinks. “Th’ hell’s that got to do with anything?”

“Means she don’t like thinkin’ about Quill pickin’ up other girls.” Rocket rolls his eyes. 

Gamora looks embarrassed. “It’s not—”

Yondu eyes her, scrunching his mouth up thoughtfully. “I can quit it.”

Rocket quirks an eyebrow. It occurs to him that Yondu wants Gamora to like him, and then he feels stupid for not noticing it before now.

Of _course_ Yondu wants Gamora to like him; she was the biggest reason Quill left the Ravagers in the first place. 

“Thank you,” says Gamora stiffly.

They’re all quiet for a bit, watching Drax lift Groot on his massive shoulders and fling them both backward into the water. Mantis keeps trying to shield herself from the splashes, but she’s laughing, so Rocket figures she’s doing okay.

“Seems weird with no music,” Yondu says after a bit. 

Gamora glances over at him. “Too quiet,” she murmurs in agreement.

Yondu nods. “You ever want more o’ them huffer sticks, you come find me. Quill used t’ like ‘em too. Dunno if he still does.”

“Thank you.” Gamora looks back out at the water.

Rocket eyes her for a minute before she gets up and goes to join Drax and Groot. If he knows her, she’ll keep well away from Mantis, but hey, it gives him and Yondu some time alone.

“So you got her stoned?” Yondu sounds amused.

Rocket snorts. “She needed it.”

“That right?”

“Yeah. Girl’s wound tighter than a spring loaded trigger.” Rocket looks at him.

Yondu shakes his head. “She ain’t Quill’s usual type, that’s for sure.”

“Well, quit bringin’ that up too. She ain’t as secure about that crap as we are.” Rocket snorts. “Do you even have a type?”

“Sure I do. Cute an’ mean.” Yondu grins.

Rocket rolls his eyes, but when Yondu reaches out to play with his ears, he doesn’t complain. “Wanna sneak off an’ fool around?”

Yondu chuckles. “Missin’ me already?”

“Maybe. Can we even manage a quickie with all the damn layers you got on?” Rocket tilts his head to urge Yondu’s hand toward the good spot just behind his ear.

“With our luck the twig’s gonna come lookin’ for us halfway through.”

“That’s why you gotta quit wearing so many clothes.”

Yondu snorts. “I’ll keep my nipples covered, thanks. Although I’m ‘bout ready t’ twist his if I have t’ hear about ‘em anymore.”

Rocket bursts out laughing. It makes the others turn toward them, and Groot bursts out of the lake to come throw himself into Rocket’s arms.

“Told ya,” says Yondu with a grin. Like he even minds; he spoils Groot worse than Rocket does.

“Yeah, yeah.” Rocket rolls his eyes and scowls at the soaking wet tree who’s snuggling the front of his jumpsuit. “Now I’m wet. Thanks Groot.”

“I am Groot,” Groot tells him brightly.

Rocket sighs. “As long as you’re havin’ fun. Now go give Yondu a hug.” He flashes Yondu a sunny grin as Groot goes to drip all over Yondu’s clothes.

Yondu flips him off.

There’s a commotion in the water; when Rocket turns, he sees Drax push between Gamora and Mantis. Gamora is clutching her wrist and Mantis has her hands over her face.

Crap.

“I’m sorry!” Rocket can hear Mantis saying it over and over.

He shares a quick look with Yondu and then hurries over. He feels weirdly responsible for Gamora since he raked her over the coals last night. “What happened?”

Gamora’s hunched in on herself, looking furious. “She grabbed my wrist.”

“I thought you had lost your balance!” Mantis whispers. She looks horrified. 

“I _never_ lose my balance,” says Gamora in a low, forbidding voice, and Mantis shrinks.

“She was trying to help you,” snaps Drax. “I know you dislike being touched, but it was a mistake.”

“I’m aware of that!” Gamora snarls. 

“Okay, okay!” Rocket holds up his hands. “Guys, we don’t have to scream at each other in the lake. There’s a normal family over there judging us.”

Drax cranes his head to look at the poor Xandarian women with their kids, who are staring at Gamora in open terror. “Cease your gawking, women! We are not entertainment!”

Gamora looks like she wants to die when the two women retreat to the beach and start packing their shit. 

Drax just stares them down until they leave, which Rocket thinks is pretty funny. Only he can’t laugh about it because Gamora and Mantis are still weird.

“Drax,” whispers Mantis, “I would like to go too.”

Rocket scowls. If they leave they’re gonna take Yondu with them, and Rocket might be a little needy. “For god’s sake, do you really gotta retreat every time she snaps? You ain’t that timid with anyone else.”

Mantis’s jaw drops.

“Rocket!” Drax puffs up, ready to defend her. 

But Rocket’s watching Mantis with narrowed eyes, and he sees the way her jaw clenches. She don’t back down from challenges, that girl, and he just threw down.

“I am not timid,” she says firmly. “I am simply trying to respect Gamora’s boundaries.”

Gamora blinks at her.

“I touched her. It was a mistake, yes, but I can feel how unhappy it makes her. I wanted to leave to spare her any additional discomfort.” Mantis keeps glaring, but Rocket can see the defensive way she’s holding herself, and she refuses to look at Gamora.

“Why does she mind so much?” Drax frowns and looks between them. “You don’t share what you feel from others anymore.”

“Does it matter why she dislikes it?” asks Mantis with a shrug. 

Gamora looks a little hunted, but her eyes are narrowing thoughtfully. “I didn’t realize you cared that much about what I thought.”

Mantis glares. “Then you were not paying attention.”

Rocket’s eyebrows shoot up. He’s never heard Mantis talk back to Gamora before.

Gamora presses her lips together tightly. “Maybe I wasn’t,” she allows. 

Mantis raises her chin. 

Rocket catches Drax’s eye and sees him looking as surprised as Rocket feels. Mantis actually looks pretty fierce with her hands on her hips.

A sharp whistle makes them all jump and breaks up the standoff. 

“Y’all look pretty stupid standin’ in the water starin’ at each other,” Yondu calls. “Plan on takin’ it outta the lake anytime soon?”

Gamora growls and stalks back to the beach, settling beside Yondu on the towels they’ve got spread out and pulling Groot toward her like a stuffed animal she can snuggle.

Rocket smirks at Mantis. “You made your point,” he tells her quietly.

She huffs. “I am tired of being so careful around her. She treats me like a threat.”

“When has she done this?” Drax looks outraged.

“They’re grown ass women, Drax. They can work it out themselves,” says Rocket.

Drax still looks like he might wanna go yell at Gamora, so Mantis rests a hand on his shoulder. “We will be fine,” she tells him soothingly, and his shoulders relax.

Rocket’s pants are all wet again, which annoys him. He stomps out of the lake and right into Yondu’s lap. Someone has to unclench here and it looks like it’s gonna have to be him.

Has nothing to do with him being needy, okay?

“Sure, everybody come drip on me,” mutters Yondu. If he’s surprised Rocket’s curling up with him in front of people, he doesn’t show it.

“Quit bitching, old man,” Rocket mutters.

“Told you t’ quit callin’ me old. I ain’t the one fallin’ asleep in front o’ the net with Kraglin.” Yondu tweaks his ear.

Rocket snaps at his fingers and grins when he snatches his hand back. 

“Brat.” Yondu’s eyes crinkle as he shakes his head and rests a hand on Rocket’s back.

Gamora’s watching them from the corner of her eye, but Rocket stubbornly pretends he doesn’t notice. Let her look; maybe she’ll figure out that she oughta quit forming opinions on shit she don’t understand.

He tucks his nose into Yondu’s neck, just under the scarf that hides his scars from the Kree. Yondu’s a little sweaty and the smell of him is so good Rocket wants to roll in it. 

He’s definitely never wallowed in the dirty clothes pile, no matter what Kraglin thinks he saw.

His ear flicks backward when he hears Mantis and Drax follow him out of the water and sit near them; Groot abandons Gamora to go beat up Drax, which Drax allows with good humor. He ain’t gonna think it’s so funny when Groot gets back to his full size, but Rocket’s not pointing that out.

It’s weirdly quiet, and Rocket pulls his face out of Yondu’s neck to see that Gamora and Mantis are still avoiding each other’s eye. 

He sighs. “So did you guys try Quill’s s’mores things last night? Groot seemed to like ‘em.”

“We did not,” says Drax. “Yondu informed us they were disgustingly sweet.”

Rocket frowns up at Yondu. “When the hell did you eat those things?”

Yondu rolls his eyes. “Kid made me get him some o’ that sticky shit every damn time we stopped for supply runs. An’ he took it with every time we had t’ go planetside. I’ve eaten so many o’ those damned s’mores it’s a miracle I still got as many teeth as I do.”

Rocket eyes the teeth in question and raises an eyebrow.

“Shut up,” Yondu mutters.

“You bought him candy whenever he asked?” asks Gamora in a soft voice.

Yondu tenses up a little, defensive. “Kept him from whinin’,” he snaps.

Rocket jabs him with his elbow and widens his eyes purposefully.

Yondu gets it and backtracks. “‘S what I told the crew when they brought it up, anyway.”

When Rocket looks, Gamora’s curled up and resting her cheek on her knees. It’s kinda creepy how flexible she is, although Quill probably likes it. She’s watching Yondu with a thoughtful little frown. 

Yondu shifts Rocket a little closer and looks out at the water. “He was always talkin’ about Terra like it wasn’t some backwater hellhole. Still ain’t sure why he never went back once he got clear o’ me.”

“He’s afraid,” says Gamora, real quiet. “How can it possibly live up to his memories?”

Yondu grunts. “Well,” he says finally, “jus’ proves he ain’t stupid.”

“What do you mean?” 

Yondu looks at her and gives a crooked smile. “You go back after so long an’ it don’t feel like home anyway. Folks might grow an’ change, but uncontacted planets? They stay small.”

“Found that out the hard way, huh?” asks Rocket. He remembers Yondu mentioning something about getting his arrow.

“Yeah.” Yondu stretches his legs out in front of him. “Do yourselves a favor an’ steer clear o’ Centauri IV. Place sucks.”

“I will,” says Drax seriously, and Rocket has to hide his face in Yondu’s neck to keep from snickering.

—

“Well, that actually didn’t suck,” Rocket says brightly. They’re heading back to their cabin and the forest smells are putting him in a good mood.

Or maybe that was spending half the day in Yondu’s lap. Hard to tell.

Gamora has a sleepy Groot in her arms, and she peers around his head to give Rocket an amused look. “You didn’t need to save me from Mantis, you know.”

“Please. I was saving Mantis from you. I can’t tell which one of you is more scared of the other.” Rocket raises his eyebrows at her. 

“I’m not trying to scare her. I just don’t want her too close, that’s all.” 

“I know that. I had to make her back off too.” 

“So why doesn’t she scare you?” Gamora demands. “It’s not like you don’t have a—” she looks annoyed, “a feelings pimple.”

Rocket cackles. 

Gamora huffs loudly and waits for him to finish laughing. 

Rocket finally pulls it together and grins. “I ain’t hidin’ anything, that’s the difference. I’m real screwed up an’ everyone knows it.” He shrugs. “Am I supposed to pretend I don’t look like an animal or get annoyed every time someone brings it up?”

She looks taken aback. “You do get annoyed any time someone brings it up.”

Rocket shrugs again. “You guys don’t do it as much anymore.”

“Yondu still calls you Rat,” she points out.

He gives her a look. “Yondu does shit with me you wouldn’t do to an animal.”

That shuts her up.

He snorts. “People ain’t gonna ditch you just because you’re fucked up, Gamora. No one’s gotta be perfect all the time.”

“I know that,” she says huffily.

“Cool. So give us some credit. Quill especially. Dude’s nuts about you.”

She sighs. “I want this trip to be over.”

“So I quit pickin’ at you?”

“Yes. But I want to talk to him.” She looks away.

Rocket gets it. After all, he sacrificed his dignity and actually cuddled in public.

Gamora gets her wish mid morning the next day. Rocket’s out in the yard burning shit for something to do when a hulking figure stumbles out of the woods.

Rocket may or may not shriek. No one can confirm.

The figure stumbles out of the shadows and turns out to be Quill.

“ _What the hell are you doing here?_ ” Rocket yells. And then he gets a look at Quill’s face.

Peter Quill, Mr. Meticulously Groomed, is missing exactly half his mustache.

Rocket does what any good friend would do. He points and laughs.

“Shut up,” mutters Quill, giving Rocket an evil look. “This is all _your boyfriend’s_ fault!”

Rocket keeps pointing because he can’t answer yet. 

“Dick,” Quill hisses.

“No, no,” wheezes Rocket, “it looks good! Really sexy, Quill. If I wasn’t bangin’ your dad I’d think about it!” He starts giggling again.

“Peter?” Gamora blinks at them from the front step.

Quill glares at Rocket and stomps over to her. “Your sister’s gone rogue!” he snaps.

Gamora’s whole demeanor changes; she goes from concerned to alert, and she starts scanning the trees. “What did she do? Where’s Kraglin?”

“Oh my god,” says Rocket loudly. “Quill, pull your head outta your ass. She ain’t hurting anyone. You’re just pissed she helped Kraglin shave you.”

Gamora blinks, then narrows her eyes and studies Quill a little more closely. “Kraglin shaved you,” she says flatly.

Quill mumbles something about two on one.

“And then she went rogue?” Gamora crosses her arms.

“Yeah.”

Gamora pauses. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

Quill hesitates.

Rocket snickers again.

“Laugh it up, fuzzball. You knew it was happening and you didn’t help me!” Quill glares at him.

“I didn’t know they were gonna shave your mustache, dumbass! I figured they’d throw you in the lake and call it good!”

“Kraglin sat on my head and farted!” Quill shouts.

Gamora’s mouth falls open.

“Stop laughing! It’s not funny!” Quill gives Rocket a dirty look. Probably because he’s pointing and laughing again.

“Did he get Nebula to do it too?” Rocket asks gleefully.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Quill looks away.

Rocket giggles.

“Come inside,” says Gamora after she recovers from her horrified staring. 

Quill leans on her a little as he passes Rocket. “Thanks.”

Rocket really tries not to laugh after them, but he gives up after a few minutes. He pulls out his comm. “Kraglin?”

“Don’t bother,” calls Kraglin from the treeline; Rocket turns and raises an eyebrow. “He went an’ snitched, didn’t he?”

“Yep.” Rocket sticks the comm back in his bag and ambles over. “You sat on his head an’ farted?”

Kraglin shrugs. “He had it comin’.” 

“Uh huh. He’s gonna tell Yondu on you.”

Kraglin makes a face. “Visit me on the couch?”

“Deal.” Rocket looks around. “So where’s Blue?”

“Turned traitor on me an’ took off into the woods,” says Kraglin, rubbing his neck. There’s a big patch right over his tattoos that ain’t as hairy as it should be.

“She shaved your neck?” Rocket busts out laughing. 

Kraglin rolls his eyes good naturedly. “Girl’s smart. There’s nothin’ we can do to her since she’s got no hair.”

Rocket smirks. “Good luck throwin’ her in the lake.”

“I like livin’,” says Kraglin wryly.

“Yeah, I sorta prefer that too. So how long ago did all this go down?”

Kraglin thinks. “Couple hours. We did Pete’s mustache last night while he was sleepin’, an’ then she got me this mornin’. Ain’t the blue I’m used t’ wakin’ up to.”

Rocket cackles at _that_ mental image. “Well, for what it’s worth I’d still make out with you.”

“Thanks.” Kraglin rolls his eyes.

“Bet you’re all baby soft right there, huh?” Rocket eyes the shaved patch with some interest.

Kraglin raises his eyebrows. “‘S only been two days,” he points out.

Rocket shrugs. “What can I say, baby? I’m a cock hungry slut.”

“Damn right.” Kraglin grins. He gives Rocket a considering once over, and it’s enough to send heat shooting hot up Rocket’s spine.

Then the door opens and Quill steps out.

Kraglin makes a disgusted noise and looks away.

“Quill, you suck,” mutters Rocket.

“I didn’t even do anything.” Quill glares at him.

“Cockblocked me again,” Kraglin says, crossing his arms.

Quill looks between them in disgust. “I’m replacing you all as my friends.”

“I ain’t your friend,” Kraglin points out. “You was supposed t’ be cargo.”

“That joke isn’t funny anymore,” Quill snaps. “And you’re being a real asshole. I thought this trip was gonna be _fun!_ ”

Kraglin scowls. “Yeah, draggin’ me to a place ya know I hate an’ keepin’ me away from the people I actually like for three weeks is a _ton_ o’ fun. Ya always did have the best plans, Pete.”

“Maybe if you stopped treating me like some dumb kid you’d get invited to planning sessions!”

“Maybe if ya quit bein’ such a self centered little puke you’d notice when no one else likes your damn ideas! This was s’posed to be a trainin’ exercise because _you_ fucked up an’ Nebula had t’ take a hit for ya. How d’you think we’d have handled that back on the _Eclector?_ ”

“The _Eclector’s_ gone,” snaps Quill.

“Because o’ you!” roars Kraglin.

Rocket gasps.

Quill goes a chalky white color. “If you felt that way then why the hell are you still here?”

“You know damn well why.” Kraglin’s eyes are narrowed dangerously as he glares at Quill. “You never even came t’ see him after ya got hurt. Scared the shit outta him an’ didn’t stop in t’ see if he might be worried or nothin’.”

“I was a little preoccupied with Nebula and the deal going down! We talked.” But Quill looks guilty.

Kraglin makes a disgusted sound. “You always been like this,” he spits. “Actin’ like he don’t care just ‘cause he ain’t wailin’ an’ cryin’ over ya. _That ain’t how he works, Pete._ ”

Rocket sees movement out of the corner of his eye and spots Nebula slinking out of the forest. Why not.

Gamora looks at Quill and Kraglin and then turns to Nebula. “What is wrong with you?”

“Did you want the short list or the full version?” Nebula eyes her. “I guess I win.”

“No, you don’t!” Quill looks ready to pop.

“You’re a fuckin’ traitor,” says Kraglin.

Nebula shrugs. “Your mistake for being trusting. I didn’t want you to fart on me.”

Kraglin and Quill exchange a look that tells Rocket Nebula’s definitely getting farted on.

Gamora narrows her eyes at them. “Why do you hate Xandar, Kraglin?”

Kraglin looks startled. “Grew up here,” he grunts.

“And?”

“An’ it sucked.” Kraglin narrows his eyes at Gamora. “You wanna go back t’ the scene o’ your shitty childhood?”

Both Gamora and Nebula tense up. 

“I think I see your point,” says Gamora delicately. 

Quill scowls. “It’s not like you were starving in this park,” he snaps. “Hating the whole planet is kind of irrational.”

“Then why don’t you head back t’ Terra?” asks Kraglin mildly.

Quill clenches his fists. “That’s not the same thing. My mother died on Terra.”

Kraglin bares his teeth. “An’ just how do ya think I ended up on the streets?” he hisses.

Rocket puts a hand on his leg. “Kraglin.”

Quill’s got an uncertain look on his face, glancing from Rocket to Kraglin to Gamora and back.

Nebula’s got both eyebrows raised. 

Rocket tugs on Kraglin’s pants leg to make him look down. “Hey,” he says softly. “You wanna take a walk?”

Kraglin looks at everyone, considering, and then nods. He takes off back into the trees without looking back.

“I got this, guys,” Rocket mutters, and takes off after him on all fours. He catches up easily, like Kraglin knew he would, and they slow a little as they get out of sight of the cabin.

“He’s a selfish little shit,” Kraglin finally says. “Always was.”

Rocket crosses his arms. “I think there’s more to it than that.”

Kraglin gives him a narrow look. “You gonna solve everyone’s problems now? Is that what you’re doin’?”

Rocket blinks. “Hey, back off. I’m on your side, you know.”

“Makes ya feel important, gettin’ in everybody’s business an’ cleanin’ up messes, don’t it?”

Rocket looks away. “I dunno. Maybe.”

Kraglin sighs. “I know it ain’t that simple. But I dunno if I can watch them fall back into the same old bullshit what tore ‘em apart in the first place.”

“Well, I been workin’ on Yondu. But he still don’t know how to talk to Quill.” Rocket’s used to having real conversations in bed where they’re eye level. He scowls and climbs up a tree so he can see Kraglin’s face better.

Kraglin’s eyebrows go up and he smirks. “Ya gotta be tall for this?”

“Unless you wanna lay down?” Rocket shoots back.

Kraglin snorts. “Nah.”

“Thing about Quill is he ain’t had that long to even adjust to the idea that Yondu’s his _dad,_ you know? He talks a big game, but I think he’s half talkin’ to himself hopin’ it’s real.”

Kraglin sigh heavily. “I know,” he mutters. “But I been watchin’ Quill break his heart for twenty years now an’ I’m sick of it.”

“Well, it ain’t just Quill. It’s both of ‘em.” Rocket shifts his grip on the tree trunk. “I know it ain’t fun to watch. But if we got him talkin’ to Stakar, we can get him talkin’ to Quill.”

“You an’ your fixin’ shit.” Kraglin shakes his head. 

“You didn’t complain when it was you I was fixin’,” Rocket points out.

“You give good head.” Kraglin leans against Rocket’s tree. “A man can put up with some shit for a good blowjob.”

Rocket snickers. “Why do you think I keep you an’ Yondu around?”

Kraglin turns and leans his elbows against the tree trunk, caging Rocket in. “Ya mean we keep you around.”

“Is that what it is?” Rocket smirks, glancing at Kraglin’s mouth.

“Sure.” Kraglin kisses him slow.

Rocket makes a little noise into it and tries to turn; normally doing two things at once is easy, but Kraglin’s kinda distracting. A wiry arm catches him before he can slip and pins him against the tree.

“See, this is way more in line with what I’d been hoping for on this trip,” he mutters.

“Screwin’ around in the woods gets you goin’?” asks Kraglin.

“Smells good out here, shut up.” Rocket finally gets his face on the shaved patch of Kraglin’s neck and grins. “I was right, you are baby soft here. Nebula gives a pretty good shave.”

“She tries it again, I’m tellin’ her ya like it.” Kraglin tips his head back.

Rocket drags his tongue across smooth skin. “I kinda do. You look stupid, but it feels nice.”

Kraglin snorts. “Ya always know just what t’ say to a guy, Rocket.”

Rocket nibbles at Kraglin’s neck just to make him shiver. “You want me to quit talkin’, baby? I can slide further down the tree if that’s what you’re after.”

Kraglin snickers. “Nah, stay right here.” He worms a hand between them and pets between Rocket’s legs. “If ya can.”

Rocket’s eyes narrow. Challenge fucking accepted. “Jerk.”

“You like it.” Kraglin grins as he works Rocket’s fly open.

“I do.” Rocket lets his head fall back when Kraglin’s clever fingers tease around his sheath. “Shit. They better not come lookin’ for us.”

“Nah, they better not,” Kraglin whispers darkly. “‘Cause I ain’t stoppin’.” He twists his fingers just right and Rocket’s cock slips out. “That’s right, princess. You just hold on an’ let me play with ya.”

Rocket whines, jerking his hips. He grips the tree tighter, because even though he knows Kraglin will catch him, falling would mean losing. 

Kraglin leans over him, nuzzling the side of his face. “Ain’t seen ya like this in real sunlight before,” he whispers. “You’re awful pretty.”

“Sap,” Rocket whispers back, and turns to lick his cheek. 

Kraglin grins and twirls a fingertip over the head of Rocket’s dick. “Don’t tell no one.”

“Who’d believe me?” Rocket shifts to spread his legs wider and digs his toes into the tree bark.

Kraglin smirks. “That’s it, keep ‘em nice an’ open for me. Like it when you’re all spread out.” He’s still teasing, just trailing his fingertips all over Rocket’s cock. “You’re gettin’ awful wet, princess.”

Rocket shudders. “You’re a goddamn tease,” he hisses. “I’m gonna remember this next time you wanna get off.”

“Quit actin’ like you ain’t gonna jerk off to this in the shower,” Kraglin says with a grin. He reaches up to lick his fingers and whispers, “so sweet.”

Rocket whines, watching Kraglin suck on his fingers. “Get ‘em back on me,” he says. “Come on, Kraglin, fucking touch me.”

“Yeah?” Kraglin grins. “You want my wet fingers on your little pink cock? Want me t’ get you all sloppy?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Rocket whimpers. “Come on, do it, please do it, Kraglin.”

“You always beg so pretty.” Kraglin grins and runs a slippery finger down the underside of Rocket’s cock. 

Rocket bucks into it and has to scrabble at the tree to keep from falling. It makes Kraglin laugh; Rocket gives him a dirty look. “Jackass,” he hisses.

Kraglin’s still grinning. “Told you to hang on, princess. I ain’t stoppin’.” He finally— _finally_ —wraps a hand around Rocket’s cock and gives it a nice long stroke.

Rocket can’t help it; he lets out a guttural moan and grips the tree hard enough to hurt. “ _Shit,_ ” he whispers, arching.

Kraglin kisses him then, licking at his mouth while he jerks him off slowly. “Look at you tremblin’,” he coos. “So pretty all stretched out an’ shakin’ like this.” 

Rocket is shaking; his foot slips and he has to catch himself to keep from falling into Kraglin’s arms. “Make me come,” he pants, arms trembling with the effort to stay still. “Come on, Kraglin, make me come.”

Kraglin smirks, and the sunlight glinting off his metal teeth is suddenly the hottest thing Rocket’s ever seen. 

He lunges forward, pushing off the tree to latch onto Kraglin’s shoulders. It sends Kraglin stumbling back a step as Rocket’s toes grip his belt. 

“Shit!” Kraglin gets an arm under Rocket’s ass and lets out a little breathless laugh. “The hell you doin?”

“You’re takin’ too long. Tree ain’t comfortable, you know.” Rocket licks across Kraglin’s open mouth. “Now get your hand back on my cock an’ make me come.”

“Mm, I like it when ya get bossy,” Kraglin says. He shifts Rocket’s weight onto one arm. “Don’t think we’ve ever done it like this, with me holdin’ you up.” He gets a hand around Rocket’s dick again, relentless now. It makes Rocket sob and shove his face in Kraglin’s neck. “Can’t go anywhere now, you squirmy little slut. Now you gotta stay just where I want ya.”

“Fuck,” whispers Rocket, jerking his hips as Kraglin works him closer and closer to the edge.

“That’s right, just take it. I know that’s what you want, princess.”

“Want you,” Rocket moans. “Come on, Kraglin.” He rocks into Kraglin’s hand, his belly going tight. He’s right there. His nose brushes the shaved patch on Kraglin’s neck right as Kraglin twists his hand just right around the head of Rocket’s cock, and that’s it. He comes with a high noise, bucking into Kraglin’s hand.

“ _Shiiiit,_ ” he mutters after, resting his chin on Kraglin’s shoulder. “I needed that.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re always horny,” says Kraglin matter of factly.

Rocket shrugs. “Want me to jerk you off?”

Kraglin chuckles. “I’ll save it. Bugs like me more’n the rest o’ ya, since I’m native. There’s places I don’t wanna get bit.”

“Oh. Dude, yeah.” Rocket nuzzles his bare patch. “So you gonna shave the whole thing now?”

“Why’d I do that? It’ll grow back.”

“I have to be seen with you. You should shave it.”

Kraglin gives him a look. “You ashamed o’ me?”

Rocket smirks. “When you’re walking around like that? Bet your ass I am.” 

Kraglin drops him.

“Jerk!” Rocket sticks the landing, but barely. “My dick ain’t even back in yet, you shithead.”

“Whoops,” says Kraglin mildly, and takes Rocket’s punch in the knee with good grace.

“Rocket?” Gamora calls from somewhere to their left.

Rocket hastily goes for his fly; he’s never been caught with his pants down before and he ain’t about to start now. 

That thing with Mantis was intentional, shut up. She quit asking to pet him after that.

“What?” Kraglin calls back shortly. He wipes his hand on the tree without bothering to hide it.

Gamora steps around a tree and tilts her head. “Nebula’s offering to shave the rest of your beard if you want.”

“He does,” says Rocket before Kraglin can more than open his mouth.

Kraglin gives him a look that promises vengeance; Rocket ignores him.

Gamora gives them both an assessing look that misses nothing; Rocket can see her lip curl a little at the sight of the come on the tree. “We were all talking about eating together, if you have no objections.”

Kraglin eyes her. “Pete ain’t holdin’ a grudge?”

She puts her hands on her hips. “Apparently he’s used to you,” she says, in that tone of voice that implies there’s only one small thing holding her back from kicking his ass.

Kraglin grunts. “Fine,” he mutters, and stalks past her.

She looks at Rocket, mouth turned down. “Seriously?”

“Stay out of it, Gamora,” he says tiredly; he’s not looking forward to Kraglin and Quill giving each other the silent treatment for the rest of the day.


	4. Chapter 4

The meal’s as awkward as he was dreading; after lunch, Nebula whips the razor attachment out of her hand like it’s not horrifying and gives Quill a critical eye.

“I wanted to do your sideburn,” she tells him as she stalks toward him. “Kraglin said no. Sit down.”

Quill looks kind of alarmed. “I’m not sure I want to.”

Nebula stops and blinks. “You like having half a mustache?”

“What? No.” Quill shuffles.

“You got your murder face on,” says Rocket idly.

“Oh.” Nebula pauses. “That’s just my face.”

Now Quill looks guilty. “Where should I sit?” He’s looking at Gamora for reassurance.

Nebula tilts her head. “Probably outside.”

So out they go, leaving Gamora hovering near the door trying to pretend she doesn’t wanna run out there and supervise.

“Sit down,” Rocket tells her. “You’re making me twitch.”

She glares at him and stays by the window.

Rocket cranes his head. “If she was really gonna hurt him, she wouldn’t do it with you right here. She’d do it later after she lulled you into a false sense of security. An’ then she’d have to go on the run an’ lose her immunity that we got for her, an’ her girlfriend who she’s nuts about, an’—”

“Okay, I get it!” Gamora stomps back to sit on one of the rickety kitchen chairs. She crosses her arms and glares at Rocket.

“I got one o’ Yondu’s huffer sticks here if ya wanna relax,” Kraglin offers.

Rocket gives him a sideways glance. “How many did you take?” he asks.

“Five or six. You?”

“Yeah, about that. Think we can get more without him noticing?”

Kraglin makes a face. “They was presents from Aleta.”

“I know. I could call her?”

“For more huffer?” Kraglin sighs. “She likes ya, Rocket. Don’t push your luck.”

“She never has to know we took it all! Just that we need more!”

“Unbelievable,” mutters Gamora.

Rocket blinks at her. “Like you get to judge. You smoked more of it than I did.”

She looks guilty and outraged all at once, which makes Kraglin snicker.

“I would _never_ steal a gift someone got from their parents,” she says huffily.

Rocket rolls his eyes. “Yondu an’ Quill are the only ones here who have parents.” He glances at Kraglin. “Unless you’re hiding a dad somewhere.”

“Nope,” says Kraglin blithely.

“Oh good. Last time someone’s long lost family showed up we had problems.”

Nebula comes storming back in, followed by a baby-faced Quill. “Kraglin,” she says ominously.

Rocket pats his knee. “Go on. You can’t look any dumber than you do now.”

Kraglin rolls his eyes and heaves himself up. 

Rocket watches him follow Nebula meekly to his fate on the porch. Then he turns to Quill, opening his mouth to make fun of his new baby face.

But he stops. Because Quill has his chair pulled up right next to Gamora’s and he’s got his head on her shoulder with his face hidden in her hair. She’s resting her cheek on the top of his head with such a tender expression that Rocket can’t bring himself to wreck it. 

He scowls as he realizes he’s probably the only reason they’re not making out. Great. He’s the cockblocker. “I’m gonna go make fun of Kraglin,” he announces, because he’s gracious like that, and heads outside.

Kraglin looks miserable with his head tipped back. Little tufts of grayish fuzz float past Rocket in the breeze as Nebula shaves the rest of his neck with a determined expression. 

For someone with no hair, she’s pretty good at this. She’s even managing to give Kraglin a jawline, which Rocket didn’t think was possible. He owes her something nice for that.

Rocket sits down on the step next to them and watches Kraglin’s chin emerge from under the fuzz. Nebula finally takes a step back and nods seriously. “There.”

Kraglin runs a hand over his neck and grimaces. “Thanks.”

“Quill an’ Gamora are inside,” Rocket says. “I figure we oughta stay out here.”

“So they get to spend time together while keeping the rest of us apart?” Nebula scowls.

Rocket looks over his shoulder toward the cabin. “Yeah, that’s stupid,” he agrees. “Let’s ditch ‘em.”

Rocket takes Groot’s hand and they head down the path to the other cabin. Drax and Yondu are sitting around the fire they’ve got going out front. Drax has the smoke wafting directly toward him; his eyes are narrowed defiantly against it.

“Where’s Mantis?” asks Nebula without saying hi.

Rocket rolls his eyes. Sometimes hanging out with Nebula is all he needs to feel like he’s got amazing social skills. 

“Nebula?” Mantis steps through the door and beams. “What are you doing here?”

Nebula stalks toward her without answering and picks her up one handed. Without even breaking stride she takes her back inside and closes the door behind her.

Rocket wishes he could erase Mantis’s delighted squeak from his memory. But he can’t, so he sits down between Drax and Yondu and stares grimly into the flames.

“The hell’s wrong with yer face, Krags?” Yondu asks, peering at Kraglin suspiciously.

Kraglin clears his throat. “Shaved,” he says delicately.

Yondu gives him a flat look. “How much o’ Quill’s beard is missin’?”

“Some.” Kraglin takes a stick and starts poking at the fire.

“Some,” Yondu repeats.

“I am Groot,” Groot tells him. Yondu nods thoughtfully. 

“Jus’ be glad you’s an only child, twig,” he says, making room for Groot on his knee. 

“I also only had one child, but I often remember my siblings and I fighting when we were younger,” says Drax sagely. “My older brother would also torment me for fun until our father stepped in.”

Rocket stares at him in horror. “You know Yondu and Kraglin are bangin’ each other, right Drax?”

“Of course.” Drax looks offended. “But Gamora has told me repeatedly that it isn’t my place to judge other people’s sexual mores.”

Kraglin has a weird look on his face, but he’s never quite forgotten how much bigger Drax is than him, so he just ups his efforts at poking the fire.

Yondu’s giving Drax the most offended look Rocket’s ever seen on him. Including that time Rocket accused him (rightly) of farting under the covers and not warning anybody. 

Drax finally looks up and blinks. “What?”

“Oh my god.” Rocket buries his face in his hands.

“I’m gonna vote for a brand new topic,” says Yondu after a moment. He still looks disturbed, but then, Rocket can’t blame him. “Or I got some huffer here.”

“I am not getting intoxicated in the middle of the day!” Drax looks indignant.

“I got Gamora to lighten up,” says Rocket. “You tellin’ me _you’re_ gonna be the stick in the mud?”

“How did you get Gamora to do drugs with you?” asks Drax, clearly intrigued.

“She can’t get drunk on account of havin’ two livers.” Rocket shrugs.

“I didn’t know that,” says Kraglin.

“I am Groot,” Groot informs him.

Kraglin shrugs.

“Here.” Yondu swipes Kraglin’s fire stick to light the joint he’s pulled out of one of his coat pockets. He takes a hit and offers it to Drax.

Drax takes it dubiously, but shrugs and inhales; Rocket’s impressed when he doesn’t cough. Then he takes another hit and passes it to Kraglin.

“Thanks.” Kraglin slips the joint between his lips and steals his fire stick back from Yondu, who scowls. 

“Hey twig, you wanna go find me a good stick? Some skinny jerk stole mine.”

“I am Groot,” says Groot seriously and slides off his lap. Rocket watches him disappear into the woods and figures he’ll be fine.

Kraglin hands the joint to Rocket with a lazy grin. 

Rocket takes a quick couple hits and passes it back to Yondu. “So who else is fucking sick of this trip?”

A dull chorus of “me” and “I am” reassures him that he ain’t alone.

“Shoulda been a training exercise,” Kraglin mutters darkly.

“Ain’t what I suggested, that’s for sure.” Yondu watches Kraglin poke at the fire enviously.

“I was bitten by an insect on my nipple.”

They all turn and look at Drax. “Gross,” says Rocket.

“An’ he’s been whinin’ about it ever since,” Yondu adds. “Put ‘em away or quit bitchin’.”

“They’re sensitive!”

“So’re mine, that’s why I keep ‘em safe.” Yondu rolls his eyes and raises the joint to his lips.

“Five hundred goddamn layers _and_ a pouch,” mutters Rocket. “I didn’t even know you _had_ nipples until like six months in!”

Kraglin starts laughing.

Yondu stares at Rocket. “You didn’t?”

“ _No!_ How was I supposed to know? Ain’t like I was gonna go fishin’ around in there for answers.”

Drax looks intrigued. “You are a marsupial species?”

Yondu clears his throat. “Uh, yeah.”

Drax nods. “No wonder you are such a good father. The males of your species are naturally inclined to caretaking.”

Kraglin’s laugh turns into a weird honking choke.

“Dude, by that logic, Nebula oughta be a good mom because she’s a chick.” Rocket frowns.

“You think I’m a good father?” asks Yondu quietly.

“Aw hell,” mutters Kraglin.

Drax nods seriously. “Quill is an honorable man. You should be proud of him.”

Yondu nods, looking touched.

“Think of how good a parent you could have been if you weren’t so emotionally damaged.” Drax thumps Yondu on the shoulder.

Yondu slumps. “Whole lotta things I’d’ve done different,” he mutters. “Quill still ain’t forgiven me for all o’ it.”

Drax nods solemnly. “You made mistakes. I understand. I once punished my daughter for taking one of my knives, and it was later revealed that Hovat had taken it to be inscribed as a surprise gift. Kameria missed a day with her friends, but no matter how hard she cried, she did not spoil the surprise.” He stares into the fire. “I still regret that.”

“What the hell is happening here?” Rocket asks Kraglin.

Kraglin looks uncomfortable.

“‘S okay,” Yondu tells Drax. “She knew you loved her. Me, I used t’ smack Quill around. Thought that was jus’ how folks treated kids.”

“That _is_ how folks treated us when we was kids,” mutters Kraglin. “Ya never even hit him that hard. Used t’ cry like you was killin’ him.”

“That is what I mean!” Drax points between them. “You had no idea how to raise a child! You were a slave when you were young, yes?”

“Yeah.” Yondu stares at the fire.

“And you, Kraglin.” Drax levels him with a look. “I don’t know what your past was like, but joining the Ravagers does not indicate a happy home life.”

Kraglin snorts. “Ya know them kids on Knowhere? They got packs like that on Xandar too.” He takes the joint and gives Drax a twisted salute. “Pete was the softest little puke I ever met.”

“An’ you’re still holdin’ it against him,” Yondu says with a narrow look.

Kraglin shrugs. “I’d have been plenty happy bein’ raised like he was. Food an’ protection guaranteed? What the hell did he have to complain about?”

“Didn’t love him enough,” Yondu mumbles.

“You loved him plenty,” Kraglin snaps. “He just couldn’t see nothin’ that wasn’t his mama.” He puffs aggravatedly on the joint and gives it to Rocket.

“Quill needs to hear stuff,” Rocket says. “Don’t feel real to him unless somebody says it.” He frowns at the size of the joint. “You assholes smoked it all.”

“You hardly need as much as the rest of us,” Drax says; Rocket glares at him.

“So your huge ass gets to smoke all the huffer an’ I just gotta deal because I’m small?” he snaps.

Kraglin’s keeping his mouth shut. Smart man.

“I got more,” says Yondu with an eye roll.

“Yeah, because I really wanna sit around an’ listen to you two dad bond,” Rocket mutters.

“Speakin’ of, where’s the twig?” asks Yondu. “I need my damn stick.”

“Oh my god.” Rocket gets to his feet and looks around. “Groot?”

There’s a long silence, and Rocket’s about start panicking when some ferns rustle and Groot charges out of the underbrush.

He’s triumphantly holding a pine cone.

Yondu sighs. “I dunno what I expected,” he mutters, and takes the thing from Groot with a patient nod. “Here, Krags. Guess you get t’ light this one.”

Kraglin rolls his eyes and lights the joint before giving it to Rocket.

The man really knows him. “You’re the best, baby.”

“Anything for you, princess.” Kraglin rolls his eyes again.

“Why does he call you that?” Drax frowns. “You are not a princess.”

Rocket pauses and exchanges a look with Kraglin. “Uhhhh...”

“It’s ‘cause he likes bein’ spoiled,” says Kraglin with a wink.

Drax nods. “Oh. That makes sense.”

“ _Dude_ ,” Rocket mutters.

Kraglin shrugs.

Rocket grumbles to himself and gets revenge by stealing Kraglin’s fire stick. Kraglin’s quick, but Rocket’s quicker, and he sticks his tongue out before he passes the joint to Yondu.

Groot looks at it curiously from where he’s perched on Yondu’s knee. “I am Groot?”

“Give it a couple years, an’ then sure.” Yondu takes a long drag. “If it even does anything for ya.”

“I am Groot.”

“Plenty o’ time for that. Why don’t you go find me some other cool shit from the woods? We can throw it at Kraglin if it’s little enough.”

“Hey,” says Kraglin.

“‘S what you get for shavin’ Quill like you’re fifteen instead o’ forty-five or however old you are.” Yondu smirks. “You’re lucky that’s all I’m gonna throw at’cha.”

Kraglin sighs heavily as Groot hops off Yondu’s knee and vanishes back into the woods.

“We ain’t bein’ irresponsible or anything, smoking huffer while we let him wander off, are we?” asks Rocket.

“He’ll be fine,” says Yondu.

— 

Eventually Mantis and Nebula come out of the cabin, adjusting their clothes and looking admirably unashamed of themselves. 

“You had sex in your own bed, right?” Drax demands as soon as they sit down. 

“Yes,” says Mantis primly. She’s perched on Nebula’s lap while Nebula does a great impression of an A’askavariian and winds her arms around her torso. “It’s rude to have sex in anyone else’s bed.”

“Never stopped Pete,” Kraglin grumbles.

Yondu makes a face. “Wish you’d let me forget that.”

“What?” Mantis looks intrigued.

“No, I’m with Yondu. We don’t wanna hear anything about Quill’s sexploits.” Rocket shudders dramatically.

“Especially when you call them sexploits,” says Nebula.

“Whatever.” Rocket passes her the joint. They’re on their third one now, and he’s feeling pretty mellow. 

She takes it and frowns before shrugging and bringing it to her face.

“May I try?” Mantis asks her. Nebula hands it over and she inhales, coughing a second later. “What is this?”

“Huffer,” Yondu tells her. “Makes you real relaxed.”

“Oh. I have never smoked anything before.” Mantis tries again and keeps coughing, so Nebula takes it away from her and hands it back to Drax.

“We should eat something,” he says thoughtfully after they’ve passed the joint a few more times.

The moment he mentions it, Rocket’s starving. “Damn. Sometimes you got good ideas, man.”

“All my ideas are good.” Drax look at him. His pupils look a little weird.

“In the space of four months you called Ronan to singlehandedly face down his army and you jumped headfirst into a huge slimy monster’s mouth. Your ideas have been known to suck.” 

“You stole harbulary batteries and tried to destroy Yondu’s ship!” 

Crap, he’s right. Rocket scowls. “I never said mine were better.”

“I can’t believe you defeated Ronan,” Nebula mutters. 

“Me either most days,” admits Rocket.

“So what are we going to eat?” asks Mantis with interest.

“You didn’t eat earlier?” Rocket asks her slyly.

She blinks, and then breaks into giggles. “I did not. I—”

Nebula calmly puts a hand over Mantis’s mouth. “Everything we have here requires cooking, unless you want ration bars.”

“Got anything back at your place?” Yondu asks Kraglin; when he shakes his head, Yondu scowls. “Rocket?”

“Nope. Been living on ration bars for like three days. I’ve eaten Gamora’s cooking exactly once, and it ain’t something I wanna do again.”

Drax nods. “It was vile,” he says glumly.

“So we have nothing to eat,” says Nebula grumpily.

“Could check with th’ neighbors,” Yondu suggests with a smirk.

“They around?” Kraglin sits up.

“Why would the people at the next campsite give us their food?” asks Drax.

“We wasn’t thinkin’ about askin’.” Kraglin grins broadly enough to show off metal teeth.

Nebula raises an eyebrow. “We’re going to risk immunity for some snacks?”

When she puts it like that it sounds stupid. 

Mantis considers. “I could convince them to share!” 

Rocket bites his lip, looking around to see if anyone else thinks this is a bad idea. Just him and Nebula, apparently.

Yondu rubs his hands together and leans forward. “Okay, Bug. You can go over there an’ sweet talk ‘em for us if they’s around.”

Mantis nods so hard her antennae bob.

“An’ if they ain’t around, then they can’t tell us no.” Yondu grins.

“This is a terrible idea,” Rocket says for the record. They ignore him.

Drax grins, always down for some food and mayhem. “Very well. Let’s go.”

Everyone gets to their feet while Rocket stares desperately at Nebula. She dithers for a second, but gets up and follows them.

“Crap,” Rocket mutters. He scampers after them.

They find Groot on the trail, stacking rocks next to a sapling barely taller than he is. “I am Groot?”

“Come on, we’re doin’ something stupid,” Rocket tells him; Groot straightens up and follows along eagerly.

Yondu shushes them all unnecessarily when they get close to the next campsite; he and Kraglin flatten themselves against trees and peer around them.

Rocket sighs heavily and climbs up the nearest tree. When he’s about fifteen feet up, he surveys the campsite; everyone’s either at the lake or inside. He sniffs the air carefully, but all the humie stench except for theirs is a few hours old.

“Clear,” he calls down below.

Yondu nods to Kraglin, who signals, and they fan out. Dimly, Rocket realizes this is the kind of shit they’d originally meant to practice on this trip. Quill’s gonna be thrilled. He hops from tree to tree, keeping an eye on the whole camp as they scope the place and determine that all the food is in the cabin. 

“Rocket,” calls Yondu softly. “Nobody’s better’n you at pickin’ locks. Get down here.”

Rocket makes his way down the tree, digging in his bag as soon as he hits the ground. His lock picks are right where they always are, and he carefully selects one after a critical look at the flimsy lock. Shouldn’t take more than a minute to get this baby open.

He’s just about got the lock when there’s a scuffle behind him. Everyone jumps and spins around, fists and knives up. Yondu’s whistling a clear, high note as the arrow floats at the ready.

Five A’askavariian college kids stand there, pool floaties and beach towels clutched in their tentacles, gaping at them. “Holy shit,” says one, “are you the Guardians of the Galaxy?”


	5. Chapter 5

“This is so awesome. We never meet famous people!” One of the A’askavariians, whose name is apparently Cha’ad, keeps shaking his head and grinning with way too many teeth. “Is Star-Lord around?”

They’re sitting around the fire eating chips and sweet pastries; turns out these dudes were so excited to meet the Guardians of the Galaxy that they immediately offered up all their snacks. Never even asked why the hell they were breaking into their cabin.

Rocket crunches a chip and ponders the nature of the universe.

“Quill has lain with an A’askavariian,” Drax muses.

One of them—Rocket can’t remember his name—perks up. “Really?”

Drax starts to answer, but Nebula gruffly cuts him off. “That was before he met my sister,” she says with an impressive scowl in the kid’s direction.

He manages not to piss himself, which is more than Rocket can say of most people on the receiving end of Nebula’s glares. “Oh.”

The kid sitting on the bench with Yondu keeps peering at him. Kraglin’s gonna get twitchy if he keeps it up. “Umm, Captain Udonta?” he asks reverently. “Can I ask you a question?”

Everyone stops and looks at him. His tentacles twine together in front of him nervously.

“Sure.” Yondu grins broadly and plants his chin in his hand. Rocket ain’t sure how anyone could miss how freaking high he is; he reeks like huffer and his eyes are glassy. 

“Well, um, I’m about to start my final year, and I was hoping to do my research project on, um, Ravager culture.” The kid tries to give Yondu puppy dog eyes. It falls kinda flat with the needle teeth behind his hopeful smile, but Yondu don’t seem put off.

“Ravager culture, huh? Easy way t’ learn about that. We take anyone.” Yondu grins like he’s funny.

The kid actually blanches. “I, uh, don’t think I’m cut out for that. I get kind of space sick going through jumps. I just—you all never talk to outsiders, and I was wondering if that’s a taboo, or—I mean, I don’t want to be disrespectful or anything.”

Kraglin’s eyebrows are climbing steadily up his forehead as this kid talks. Finally he snorts. “Ya know our rituals ain’t for other people, right?”

The kid looks mortified. “Oh god. I didn’t. I’m sorry, I’ll stop asking.”

“Eh, better’n havin’ a bunch o’ crap published about us,” says Yondu grandly. “How’s about this, kid. Ask an’ I’ll tell ya if it’s somethin’ we share.”

The kid—Ja’ash, that’s his name—beams like it’s his birthday. “Oh wow. If you’re sure.”

“Yeah, what th’ hell.” Yondu takes a swig of the beer the kids offered them. It’s good stuff, some name Rocket’s never heard of that they all assure him is a craft microbrew from Krylor. 

Rocket honestly has no idea how these people live. It’s like watching zoo animals. One of the kids needs help getting the lid off his beer.

Amazing.

Ja’ash squirms. “What do the colors of your factions mean?”

Yondu blinks at him several times. “We jus’ picked our favorite colors,” he says blankly.

Kraglin sighs.

“Oh.” Ja’ash scratches his head with a tentacle. “Okay. Um, then are you allowed to talk about the Code? Because there’s a lot of debate in academic circles about the Code and how it’s interpreted.”

That makes Yondu stop and sit back. “Hell,” he says heavily. “Went right for a big one.”

“Is that okay?”

“It’s—” Yondu starts to answer, but he’s cut off by Quill’s indignant bellow of “ _Yondu!_ ”

Quill and Gamora step off the path, both of them looking livid. Gamora’s got her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed as she takes in the scene.

Which, okay, looks pretty bad: they’re all high as fuck, sitting around eating other people’s food. Quill ain’t stupid; he’s gonna know exactly how they got here.

“Oh my god, it’s Star-Lord,” whispers one of the A’askavariians gleefully.

Quill stops.

“Yep, there he is!” says Rocket, thinking quickly. “I bet he’d take a picture with you if you asked!”

The kids all scramble for their datapads, and before Gamora can inject common sense into the situation Quill’s mugging it up in a series of selfies. Rocket grins; it’s good to be the smartest guy in the room.

“If he wasn’t so insufferable about fame, you’d be in so much trouble,” Gamora growls as she sits next to Rocket on his bench. “We spent _hours_ looking for you!”

He offers her a chip. “We had it under control.”

She stares at him.

And Rocket caves. “Okay, okay,” he says. “It was Drax’s idea. He got hungry, an’ then Yondu an’ Kraglin got into it, and Mantis was all in, and what were Nebula and I supposed to do? I ain’t just lettin’ ‘em go wander around the park with the munchies! They’d eat a tourist!”

Gamora sighs and looks briefly skyward. For strength, maybe. Rocket can’t tell. She does it a lot.

“Want a chip?” He’s still holding it out.

Gamora nods slowly. “Sure.” She takes it delicately and pops it in her mouth.

“Gamora! Can we have your picture too?” Cha’ad gives her a winning (and real sharp) smile over his datapad.

“Yeah, come on, Gamora!” Quill beams. “These guys are awesome.”

She glares hotly at Rocket. “I hate you,” she tells him before she pushes to her feet and plasters a pleasant expression on her face.

Rocket catches Yondu eyeing him appreciatively and winks.

Gamora puts up with the pictures for about twenty minutes before she can’t take it anymore. Then she sweetly informs the kids that Rocket knows how to blow up a moon, and Yondu has his arrow and maybe he’d like to show it off, and that Mantis can tell what you’re feeling just by touching you.

Suddenly Rocket’s got two excited engineering students giving him worshipful looks and asking about his designs.

This is _great._

He has fun getting into some debates about his latest plans for the aero rigs, and before he knows it the shadows are lengthening and Groot is dozing off on Drax’s shoulder. The arrow zips around them in complicated loops as Quill tells the entranced A’askavariians about holding an Infinity Stone. Yondu chimes in to remind him about how he plucked him from deep space, otherwise he wouldn’t be around to hold the damn stone. Quill makes a face.

Rocket smiles. Like father, like son. They’re both dramatic bitches.

Gamora’s wearing the same slightly stupid smile he can feel stretched across his own face. “We should probably go,” she murmurs.

Rocket looks at Groot; the kid’s down for the count. “Yeah, probably. This was okay though, right?”

She smiles at him. “Amazingly, yes.”

“Okay, guys. We oughta be gettin’ back.” Rocket stands on his bench to get their attention.

A chorus of groans answers him, but Drax is already getting up and handing Groot gently to Gamora. Mantis and Nebula rise together, their fingers tangled. And Yondu whistles his arrow home, catching it out of the air to the amazement of the kids.

“That’s so cool,” the one who wanted to bang Quill whispers.

Yondu winks.

“Okay, Boss.” Kraglin puts a possessive hand on Yondu’s waist as he steers him away, giving the A’askavariian a narrow look over his shoulder.

Yondu grins.

Rocket watches them all start to head off down the path and catches sight of the one who’d been asking Yondu all the questions before Quill showed up. He looks bummed, and Rocket realizes he didn’t actually get a chance to ask Yondu about Ravager shit.

He’s seized with a brilliant, awful idea. “Hey, dude,” he mutters. “You wanna know about Ravagers?”

The kid—Ja’ash, Rocket keeps forgetting his name—blinks and then nods.

“Here.” Rocket pulls some paper out of his bag and scribbles Stakar’s number on it. “Say Rocket gave you this.”

Ja’ash looks at it. “What is it?”

Rocket grins.

—

Something Rocket managed to forget living in space most of his life: sunlight is _brutal_ on hangovers. Whatever rich kid beer those guys shared last night wasn’t fucking around.

Rocket groans and shoves his face into the pillow, trying to block it out. A fussy “I am Groot,” yawned next to him tells him he’s not alone.

“Hey, Groot,” he mumbles, flapping a hand until he settles on Groot’s head. The blankets under him start shifting, which makes him pin his ears back, but he relaxes again when Groot shoves his way under Rocket’s arm with his back pressed against Rocket’s front.

Hell. Rocket curls around Groot and nuzzles his chin on the kid’s shoulder. Groot heaves a contented little sigh and pushes back to get closer. 

This is the best. Forget that Rocket’s head is pounding and he’s pretty sure he ain’t even on an actual bed. Groot’s curled up close and safe and everything smells like home and the only thing that could make it better is—

There’s a snorting sound next to him as Quill wakes up. “I only had a few beers,” he whines. “Why is the sunlight killing me?”

Rocket grunts in solidarity. 

“I am Groot,” Groot points out.

“Smartass,” Quill mutters.

They both stop.

“I am Groot?”

“Oh my god.” Rocket actually cracks an eye open. “Since when do you understand him?”

“Since....I don’t know.” Quill rolls over to blink blearily at them. “Must’ve been picking it up for awhile without noticing.”

“I am Groot?” Groot wiggles out of Rocket’s arms and throws himself into Quill’s, and Rocket hates him for a burning second before reminding himself that he should be happy about this.

A normal person would be happy, instead of feeling like he’s lost something precious that was just his and Groot’s before now.

But Quill’s laughing and groaning in equal parts while Groot climbs on him. He tries to yell for Gamora and makes his headache worse, so it trails off into a miserable moan.

Gamora, of course, isn’t hungover because she’s totally unfair. She steps into the room with a cup of coffee. “What are you yelling about? The others are still asleep.”

“Groot! Tell her!” Quill is clearly still rocking some of that Celestial shit, because no one as hungover as he claimed to be could toss Groot in the air and catch him without barfing.

Groot squeals happily. “I am Groot!”

“Did you understand that?” Quill asks her eagerly.

“No,” says Gamora slowly. “Do you?”

“Yes! That’s what we just figured out! I can understand Groot!” Quill gives the kid a big hug. “This is great!”

Quill’s distracted, so he doesn’t see the hurt that flashes across Gamora’s face before she smooths it over with a smile. “Peter, that’s great.”

“I know! I must have just been picking it up without even notici—”

Rocket’s pillow hits him right in the side of the head. “You’re an _idiot,_ ” he hisses.

“What the hell?”

“Go on, brag. Rub it in that she’s the only one of us who don’t know what he’s sayin’. She’ll love that.” Rocket rolls over and turns his back on Quill. It feels good, having an excuse to lash out. He can even claim he’s being the good guy and fixing shit.

Sadly, he can’t turn off his hearing. Quill says, in a real serious voice, “Gamora, I didn’t—”

“It’s okay,” she tells him a little too quickly. “I’m not upset.”

“Horse shit,” says Rocket loudly. He burrows under the blankets to block out the sun.

“Why are you part of this conversation?” snaps Quill.

“Because you won’t freakin’ _leave._ ” Rocket shifts a little and finally finds a comfortable position.

“I’m happy for you,” Gamora says after a pause.

“But you’re also kinda bummed out about not being able to understand Groot,” says Quill gently.

“It’s not a competition.”

Rocket coughs conspicuously.

“Oh my god, dude.” Quill sounds annoyed.

“You’re bein’ too gentle. Just pop her feelings pimple already.”

There’s a long silence. “What exactly,” asks Quill after a second, “is a feelings pimple?”

“Rocket, find somewhere else to be,” snaps Gamora.

“I’m hungover!”

The blanket gets yanked off him and the resulting sunlight makes him yowl. “ _Out,_ ” snarls Gamora. 

So he shuffles out of what turns out to be the bedroom, scratching his ass in their direction. In the main room of the cabin he sees several lumps under blankets. A blue foot too dainty to be Yondu’s sticks of the lump closest to him, and he spots Mantis’s tangled hair further up 

Rocket grins. He’s gonna give Nebula so much shit about being the little spoon. But that’s for later; he spots Yondu’s fin and goes over, eeling under the blanket and tucking himself against Yondu’s broad chest. One of Kraglin’s spindly fingers scratches his neck before his hand flops back against Yondu’s side.

It smells like them under here, dark and warm, and Rocket sighs as he lets himself drift off again.

—

He wakes up again because of Yondu’s farting, which happens more often than he likes to admit. The blanket is suddenly intolerable and he comes up gasping for air.

Kraglin snickers, the dick.

Yondu clears his throat delicately and gets up, all calm like he’s not about to go take a huge dump. 

“Son of a bitch,” Rocket grumbles right before Nebula lets out an unhappy snarl.

“ _Which one of you did it?_ ”

“You smelt it, you dealt it,” says Quill mildly from where he’s sipping his coffee next to the open window.

Nebula lurches out from under her blanket cocoon, feet catching a little and making her trip over Mantis, who whines. 

Quill looks smug right up until the smell hits him. Then he scrunches his face up and pushes the window further open. “ _Ugh_. I forgot about the beer farts.”

“Wish I could,” mutters Rocket.

Gamora comes in from outside, gags, and walks back out again. 

“That was Yondu, for the record!” Quill calls after her.

Nebula is staring at him in open disgust. “I don’t know why she likes you.”

“It’s the abs,” Quill tells her happily.

“God knows the rest of you’s useless,” Rocket mutters. He stretches and ambles over to the coffee.

Kraglin groans and gets up too, adjusting his balls. He wipes his hand on Quill as he passes him, grinning at his outraged yell, and gets Rocket a cup of coffee.

“You’re my favorite today,” Rocket tells him, sipping gratefully.

Kraglin snorts. “Nebula, you want coffee?”

She hesitates, clearly still pissed about getting woken up by Yondu’s gas, and then sighs and mutters “fine.”

“Thank you for getting everyone coffee, Kraglin,” says Mantis cheerfully from her spot on the floor. Rocket’s never seen her hair stuck up in that many directions before.

Kraglin stares at her, then curses under his breath and gets her a cup too.

Rocket smirks; there’s no way she don’t know what she’s doing. Mantis has played the innocent card a few too many times to fool anyone. She’s just so damn nice they do what she wants anyway.

“Is it safe to come back in there?” asks Gamora through the window.

Quill sniffs experimentally. “Yeah, should be.”

“Good. Then I’ll get Drax and Groot.” She vanishes from sight.

Yondu slinks back into the kitchen, carefully casual. Rocket just shakes his head fondly and drinks his coffee. Stubborn idiot; if he didn’t insist on eating shit that messed with his stomach, he wouldn’t have these issues.

Kraglin hands him a cup of coffee; their fingers brush at the hand off, and the way Yondu looks at Kraglin makes Rocket wish the rest of ‘em weren’t here.

But then Gamora comes back inside. She’s holding Groot and Drax trails after her, eyeing the coffee with interest.

“Kraglin is getting coffee for everyone!” Mantis tells him with an innocent smile. She lifts her cup to her lips to hide her grin when she looks at Kraglin.

“I’m onto ya, Bug,” he warns her, but Drax is looming a little so he gets him some coffee anyway.

“Okay.” Quill claps his hands and then looks around at everyone. “Who here is actually having fun on this trip?”

Drax raises his hand, and so does Groot. Everyone else stares at them.

Drax looks around. “Oh.” He puts his hand down and takes a sip of coffee.

“Right. Since no one’s having fun and because we can’t trust people not to go _stealing food from the neighbors,_ we’re gonna pack up and leave early.”

“Thank god,” mutters Nebula. 

“But not,” Quill continues, “before we have a big farewell bonfire.”

“Is that traditionally part of camp?” asks Gamora.

“Yep. And we have to eat all the s’mores. They don’t taste the same without actual flames.”

“Okay, great!” Rocket sets his coffee down. “So that’s tonight an’ then tomorrow we pack our shit an’ go home?”

Quill sighs. “Yeah.” He looks downtrodden for a minute before he forces a smile. 

Mantis gets to her feet, her mug cupped in both hands. “Peter, what did you want from this trip?” she asks gently.

Quill gives her a quick, wounded look and then looks down. “I dunno,” he mutters. “It’s stupid.”

Yondu pauses with his coffee cup halfway to his mouth.

“It’s not stupid, Peter,” says Gamora, laying a hand on his shoulder.

He covers it with his own. “Nah, it kind of is. I just...I remember having a lot of fun at camp, and the kids were actually nice to me for once and I wasn’t thinking about my mom too much and—” He shakes his head. “It was just a good memory, that’s all. I kept trying to recreate it and it never worked.”

“It sounds nice,” says Mantis softly

“It was.”

Rocket glances at Yondu, who’s watching Quill. He looks stricken. Guess it never clicked for him, all those years of Quill begging for candy and shit when they went planetside, that Quill was actually looking for some quality time. The lines around Yondu’s mouth deepen before he looks away.

Shit. There’s nothing Rocket can do to make that old hurt go away, and he hates feeling helpless. He edges around Mantis to press against Yondu’s leg.

Yondu looks down. 

“Come take a walk with me,” Rocket says softly.

Yondu jerks his head at Kraglin and they slip out while Drax and Gamora bicker over how big the fire can be. Rocket sees Mantis glance after them before the door closes, but she doesn’t say anything.

“Ain’t your fault,” says Kraglin roughly as soon as they get outside. “Did everything ya knew how to do.”

“Shut up, Kraglin,” says Yondu in a colder voice than Rocket’s heard him use since the mutiny.

Kraglin goes silent.

Rocket sighs. “Yondu, quit bein’ a sad bitch an’ go talk to him. It’s pretty clear that’s what he wants.”

Yondu turns away.

“He figured out how to understand Groot today,” says Rocket quietly.

That makes Yondu look back. “Issat right.”

“Yeah.” Rocket swallows. “It was earlier, when you were still asleep.”

“Hell,” mutters Yondu. He rubs a hand across his face. “You act like an asshole?”

“Not too bad.” It’s Rocket’s turn to look away.

“Good.” Yondu’s hand lands on the back of his neck and Rocket leans into it, closing his eyes against the weird prickling there. “You ain’t lost nothin’, Rat. You’re his daddy as much as Quill.”

Rocket huffs. He knows, he _knows,_ but he’s a miserable jealous fucker and maybe it’d be different if Quill and Gamora weren’t together. Then it wouldn’t feel like the pair of them against him, and they’d all be equal partners like him and Kraglin and Yondu are. 

And besides, Groot was _his_ first.

Thick fingers card through the fur on his nape, pulling him steadily out of his bitter funk. It sends a shiver all through Rocket, tingling his nerve endings pleasantly. 

He wonders how Yondu must have felt, living with the ghost of Quill’s sainted mom who never fucked up, never lost her temper or took the kid dangerous places. Probably felt pretty shitty. Rocket turns and licks Yondu’s hand. It pauses its scratching but then continues. 

“You,” says Yondu abruptly to Kraglin, “gotta quit blamin’ him for shit that ain’t his fault. He didn’t get us exiled, I did. An’ he didn’t cause the mutiny either. That was still me. So you put that shit where it belongs an’ leave him be.”

Kraglin seems to shrink under Yondu’s words, but he nods, kicking sullenly at some loose dirt. “Don’t like seein’ him hurt ya, is all,” he mutters. “He done it for years.”

“You let me an’ Quill deal with things our own way. Don’t need you on my side this time, Krags.”

Kraglin nods again and looks out into the trees.

“So you actually gonna deal with things then?” asks Rocket. “Or are we gonna have to leave you two here the rest of the trip while the rest of us get to go?”

“Try it, Rat, an’ I’ll fart next time you lick my asshole,” says Yondu cheerfully.

“I would die, Yondu. That would actually kill me.” Rocket crosses his arms, giving Yondu’s snigger his best unimpressed face.

It doesn’t work.

Eventually Kraglin caves and giggles, so Rocket lets himself grin too. Quill finds them all on the lawn snickering like a bunch of kids.

“I probably don’t wanna know,” he says.

“Yondu threatened to fart on me,” Rocket explains. 

Quill snorts. “See, a threat like that got me hiding in the vents for days because I knew he’d do it.”

“Can’t make empty threats,” says Yondu easily. Giving Quill the out if he wants it.

Rocket narrows his eyes. “Well, he only threatened to do it if I locked you two in a room an’ made you talk about shit.”

That wipes the smiles off their faces. 

“Uh, we don’t really have to—” Quill starts, but Yondu cuts him off.

“What was that shit you was always talkin’ about when you was a kid?” he asks gruffly. “Fishin’?”

Quill goes still. “You mean it?” His face is so hopeful that Rocket’s gotta look away.

“Yeah.” Yondu spits into the grass. “What th’ hell, ‘s a nice day.”

“Sounds good.” Quill actually beams at him. Then he pauses. “But we’ve gotta pack.”

“We got it, Pete,” says Kraglin. “Go.”

Quill blinks and then smiles. “Thanks, Kraglin.” He claps him tightly on the shoulder, holding on almost long enough to consider it a hug.

“Don’t push it.” Kraglin flicks his ear. “Now scram, kid.”

Quill sticks out his tongue like an infant and trots happily after Yondu on the path toward the lake.

“Okay,” says Rocket, “we got a couple hours to get this bonfire thing together.”

—

Quill and Yondu are gone longer than Rocket expects; he takes the time to drag Gamora aside and make her level with him.

“No, it doesn’t bother me,” she says, and then hugs herself when Rocket levels her with a look. “Alright, fine. It’s disappointing.”

“You know it ain’t nothing to do with you, right?” he asks. “Already told you you’re good at the...” Rocket gestures vaguely. “Parenting thing.”

Gamora blinks rapidly at him. “You really think so?” she asks, real soft.

Rocket wipes his nose and nods. “Yeah. You’re, you know, a good mom an’ shit.”

“Thank you, Rocket.” Gamora smiles. “I—thank you.”

Rocket grunts. 

After they pack their shit, they all put their heads together and try to remember everything Quill told them about camp. Gamora knows the most, unsurprisingly, so she’s taken the lead. She manages to talk Drax out of a really big fire, even though Drax ain’t the only one disappointed about that. Mantis chimes in with some tidbits about Terra she heard from Ego; turns out the bastard liked to reminisce about his time with Quill’s mom. Rocket ain’t sure how he feels about that, and judging from the looks on Kraglin and Gamora’s faces, neither are they.

But they take all their information and they get a bunch of sticks to roast shit on, and after they make Gamora sing the stupid song Quill taught her (her voice ain’t as good as Nebula’s, Rocket’s surprised to learn), they’ve got everything they need.

So when Quill and Yondu come back, a couple fish between them that they cleaned down by the lake, everyone’s ready to have a proper camp bonfire.

Kind of.

Quill’s whole face lights up when he sees them, and for all Rocket hates him sometimes, that gives him a warm feeling inside. Just like the grateful look Yondu throws him from where he’s fallen a step behind Quill.

They roast the fish, and the sausages, and Rocket pokes Gamora until she and Mantis and Nebula sing the stupid song for Quill. Apparently they get some words wrong, because Quill damn near falls off the bench laughing. 

“Guys...thanks,” he says when he quits snickering. “It means a lot to me.”

“We know,” Gamora tells him, and there’s that softness that Rocket only sees her show to Quill and Groot. Her eyes go all warm and while she’s always beautiful, for a second she’s breathtaking in the firelight.

Rocket looks over at Yondu and finds him looking back. Yondu gives him the smallest nod, but Rocket understands anyway; he’s glad Rocket pushed.

They all got feelings pimples that need popping once in awhile.

Rocket watches Quill teach Groot and Gamora how to make a proper s’more and smiles.

—

The next morning is craziness as they all double and triple check to make sure they haven’t forgotten anything. All in all, it takes them about two hours to return the cabin keys and get back to the Quadrant. Rocket ain’t the only one who’s glad to be home; Kraglin flops face first onto their bed as soon as he drops his suitcases.

Rocket’s tempted to join him, but there’s shit to unpack, so he works on that while Yondu checks the jobs board and Kraglin lays there like a slug. He gets to the bottom of Yondu’s case and stares, mystified, at the same nasty underwear he’s sure he’s thrown away twice now.

“Yondu,” he says slowly, “did you dig these fuckin’ things outta the garbage _again?_ ”

The guilty silence is answer enough.

Rocket calmly pulls them out and takes them over to the drawer where Yondu keeps his good huffer. Without a word he flicks the lighter and sets them on fire.

”Hey!” Yondu jumps up faster than Rocket’s seen him move in awhile. “What the hell are you doin’, boy?”

“Throwin’ ‘em out wasn’t working, so I’m improvising,” Rocket explains, waiting until they’re past saving to quench the flames; it’s a nice way to make sure the vacuum pockets he developed a few months ago are still working. 

Yondu’s staring at him.

“You don’t gotta settle for shit anymore,” Rocket snaps. “Just order some new ones.”

Kraglin picks his head up. “Maybe in red,” he suggests.

They both turn to him. “Red, huh?” asks Yondu. There’s a smile hovering around his lips.

“Yeah, red,” Rocket agrees. “Bet that’d look real pretty on you.”

“Seems t’ me you owe me a pair o’ drawers since you burned those ones.” Yondu reaches up to unbuckle the harness across his chest.

“If I buy ‘em, you promise to wear ‘em?” Rocket watches his hands.

“Ain’t promisin’ nothin’,” Yondu says in his soft scratchy voice.

Rocket shivers. “Bet I can convince you.”

“Oh, you might.” Yondu shrugs his coat off. “Got anything good t’ offer me?”

“Could fuck you until you beg,” Rocket suggests.

Yondu tilts his head, humming thoughtfully as he unbuttons his shirt. “You’ll do that anyway.”

“I’ll stick my hands down your pouch an’ play with your nipples.”

That gets a pause and a smothered grin. “Temptin’.”

Rocket sighs. “I’ll dig your little frog out from under the bed without whining.”

Yondu’s eyes gleam with victory. “Now we’re talkin’. What else?”

“What the hell kinda underwear do ya think he’s gonna buy you?” Kraglin asks from the bed. He’s also watching Yondu undress with a kind of fervor that always makes Rocket jittery. Stupid prey instincts that never quite go away.

Yondu just throws him a saucy look. “Dunno. Figured I’d cover my ass jus’ in case.”

“I’m _trying_ to cover your ass!” Rocket shakes his head. 

Kraglin snickers.

Yondu lets out a snort and lets his shirt fall to the floor. “All while I’m tryin’ t’ _uncover_ my ass.”

“Okay, old man. You uncover your ass, an’ then see if I can’t convince you to do whatever I want.” Rocket grins at him.

Kraglin shimmies out of his jumpsuit; Rocket’s feeling nice so he don’t laugh when one of the legs gets snagged on a boot and he has to struggle with it. He’s too busy getting naked to make fun of Kraglin.

Of course, Yondu’s still got his pants on when they look up from getting undressed, but they’re open and the boots are in the corner, so it’s progress. Yondu flashes Rocket a grin and pushes them down, taking his underwear—which are marginally less nasty than the ones Rocket just burned—with them. 

Then it’s all scarred, gorgeous blue skin. Rocket eagerly watches him walk to the bed. He parks his ass in Kraglin’s lap and loops his arms over Kraglin’s shoulders. 

“Ain’t seen you all week, darlin’,” he practically purrs.

Kraglin puts his hands on Yondu’s waist. “Miss me?”

Yondu snorts. “Missed your dick nudgin’ me in th’ asscrack every mornin’.”

Kraglin’s grin widens enough to show teeth. “Bet you did. Been awhile since ya went a week without gettin’ any cock.”

Yondu clears his throat. “Yeah.”

“You need one o’ us to fill you up?” Kraglin reaches back to squeeze one of Yondu’s asscheeks, kneading the flesh when Yondu arches. “Stuff you all full, is that what you want?”

“Yeah,” Yondu says again. His voice has gone all breathy and scratchy, and his eyes fall closed.

“Let’s do that then. Get you all nice an’ full o’ cock.” Kraglin coos at him while he pets up and down his asscrack. “Want it on both ends? Should I fuck your ass while Rocket fucks your mouth?”

Yondu makes a soft noise, nodding without opening his eyes. 

“Yeah, I thought you’d like that.” Kraglin kisses his throat, just above the scars on his neck. It makes Yondu throw his head back and moan real soft.

Rocket climbs onto the bed, licking his lips at the sight of them. That’s one thing that never gets old, seeing them like this. He likes the contrast of their skin colors, and the way Kraglin’s long fingers look on Yondu’s body. Ever since that time Kraglin told them to fuck while he watched, they’ve been less shy about doing shit in front of each other. Rocket loves the mornings where he wakes up to Yondu’s breathy moans and Kraglin’s harsh panting. Sometimes he’ll join in, slithering under the blankets to lick at whoever’s in reach, but sometimes he just watches. It’s a weird intimacy, but he likes it.

Kraglin’s playing with Yondu’s hole, circling around it with a dry finger before tapping it until Yondu whines. It’s a vicious tease and Rocket knows just how it feels. Yondu’s squirming deliciously on his lap, trying to get better pressure where he wants it.

“Krags,” he rasps, and that’s when Rocket takes pity on him and goes for the lube. He passes it to Kraglin with a grin.

“Yeah,” Kraglin murmurs, “look at you, wigglin’ like you’re gettin’ paid for it. Look real pretty like this.”

“He’s gonna look even better with your cock stuffed in him,” says Rocket.

“Damn right he is.” Kraglin grins. He takes his hands off Yondu long enough to slick up his fingers, and even that gets him a dirty look.

“Evil fuckin’ tease,” Yondu growls. “If you wasn’t so good at this I’d’ve killed you a long time ago.”

Kraglin kisses him when he pushes two fingers inside; the little squeal Yondu makes might be the hottest sound Rocket’s ever heard.

“What was that you was sayin’?” Kraglin asks innocently as he kisses down Yondu’s neck. He angles his fingers to make Yondu gasp before he can answer.

“I always love watchin’ you take him apart,” Rocket says, leaning against Kraglin’s back. He licks his ear, and Kraglin turns his face for a kiss.

“I wanna watch him suck your pretty little cock,” Kraglin whispers against his mouth. “You always make the best noises when someone’s got their mouth on ya.”

Rocket shivers, resting his chin on Kraglin’s shoulder to watch Yondu writhe on his fingers. “Fill him up good, Kraglin. I want him.”

Yondu cracks open an eye at that and gives Rocket a slow grin. He licks his lips deliberately. “Want you too, boy. Wanna get’chu grabbin’ my fin an’ whinin’ for me.”

Rocket squirms and presses against Kraglin. “Hurry up,” he whispers in Kraglin’s ear. “Don’t you wanna feel his sweet little ass squeezin’ your cock?”

A shiver runs through Kraglin. “Gotta take my time. He’s all worked up now. Gotta stretch him real good so I can fuck him hard like I wanna.”

Yondu makes a real pretty noise at that. “Gimme another one, Krags. I can take it, c’mon.”

“Fill him up,” Rocket whispers again, digging his claws just a little into Kraglin’s sides.

Kraglin hisses and arches a little, and Rocket gets to watch Yondu’s mouth fall open and his eyelids droop when Kraglin slides a third finger in.

“ _Yeah,_ ” Yondu groans, riding Kraglin’s fingers shamelessly. “Shit, Krags, tha’s fuckin’ good. Want‘chu in me, c’mon, fuck me already, I can take it.”

“Hell,” mutters Kraglin. He pulls his fingers out. “Get on your hands an’ knees. An’ you,” he says, half turning to nuzzle Rocket, “get on your back. If I don’t see that pretty pink cock o’ yours, I’m gonna put ya over my knee an’ spank you till you get hard.”

Rocket practically throws himself back onto the bed; he was hard already, but thinking about _that,_ well...

Yondu looms over him, grinning. “Dirty boy,” he murmurs affectionately. “You love that kinky shit.”

Rocket reaches for him, and Yondu bends down obligingly for a kiss. It breaks off when Yondu gasps sharply against Rocket’s mouth before letting out a deep groan that vibrates through both of them. Rocket grins. “Feelin’ better now with a big thick cock fillin’ you up so good?” he murmurs. 

Yondu pants, and Rocket licks across his open mouth before scooting further up the bed. He wants those pretty blue lips on him, although he spares a second to watch Kraglin drape himself over Yondu’s back and slip a hand into his pouch.

“Gonna play with your pretty tits,” he hisses when Yondu cries out. “Let’s see how good you suck his cock with me givin’ it to ya just right.”

“Aw _hell,_ ” Yondu gasps. He hangs his head for a second, and then sinks down onto his elbows. “C’mere, boy.”

Rocket positions himself so Yondu don’t have to go far. He’s wet already, and Yondu’s hot breaths puffing against his cock just get him hotter.

“Think you can get a finger up his ass?” Kraglin asks with a grin. “Gotta keep ya both satisfied.”

Yondu looks over his shoulder. “Gimme th’ lube an’ we’ll see.”

Kraglin grins and hands it over. “Legs open, princess. Can’t leave a little cock slut empty.”

Rocket spreads eagerly and moans when Yondu’s slick finger presses against his asshole. It teases there, petting while Yondu breathes over his cock. Rocket has to close his eyes at the sight, but that just makes the wet, filthy sounds of Kraglin leisurely fucking Yondu more noticeable. 

And then the finger slides in, at the same time a hot tongue drags over the head of Rocket’s cock. 

“ _Fuck,_ ” he sobs, grabbing onto Yondu’s fin; it’s the only part of him that Rocket don’t have to be careful about his claws on. His hips jerk before he can stop himself, making Yondu pull back.

“Careful, boy,” he murmurs, grinning as he licks his lips again. “You stab me in th’ throat an’ we gonna have t’ stop.”

“Sorry, sorry,” pants Rocket, scrabbling at Yondu’s fin to get his mouth back on him. “I’m sorry, come on, fucking do it, lick me, come on!”

So Yondu does, fitting his mouth over the underside of Rocket’s cock and flicking his tongue as he moves up and down. It’s heaven; Rocket’s caught between Yondu’s mouth and his finger and he can barely even focus on Kraglin’s whispered words to Yondu.

He’s telling them how pretty they look, how good Yondu feels. Rocket ain’t sure how he can keep up the commentary while he’s fucking Yondu and playing with his pouch, but it’s hot. Kraglin’s good at multitasking that way. A stray thought chases across Rocket’s mind about how it’d be nice if he put that ability to work keeping his damn clothes off the floor, but then he catches himself, horrified.

Shit. No. He refuses to turn into Gamora.

So he rocks back onto Yondu’s finger until the pressure on his prostate is enough to make his brain melt. That’s better; now he can focus on important shit like the way Yondu’s tongue curls around the head of his cock, or the way the bed’s jostling faster as Kraglin puts his back into it.

So much better.

Yondu’s rhythm falters when Kraglin starts pounding his prostate. It makes Rocket want to scream in frustration. “Yondu,” he whines, arching to get more of his cock into Yondu’s mouth, “come on, _please!_ ”

And Yondu’s never left him hanging so he rallies, slurping Rocket’s cock into his mouth with an obscene, needy groan and sucking like it’s a goddamn candy. Rocket yells, claws scratching over his fin. That finger hits his prostate just right and he’s gone. He opens his eyes in time to watch his own come splash across Yondu’s open mouth.

Gorgeous. Yondu smacks his lips like he just got a treat, and Rocket really wishes he could go again, because goddamn. 

Rocket pushes up on his elbows, chest heaving, to watch the rest. Kraglin’s face is screwed up in pleasure and concentration as he coordinates fucking Yondu and jerking him off; now that Yondu’s finger ain’t up Rocket’s ass anymore, he’s gripping the blankets tight both hands. Holding on so Kraglin don’t fuck him across the bed.

“Fuck, you look good,” Rocket tells him, grinning when those glazed red eyes meet his. “Like a debauched little fucktoy, with come on your face an’ a cock in your ass.”

Yondu makes a high, needy sound at that.

“You gonna come like this? Tastin’ me while he fucks you just right?”

Yondu nods, mouth falling open around a groan as Kraglin makes a hissing noise behind him.

Rocket smirks. “He clench up real nice?”

“Yep,” says Kraglin shortly.

“That’s right, squeeze his cock real good, Yondu. Make him really feel your pretty little hole.” Rocket smirks at the hot, stunned look on Yondu’s face. 

“You’re a filthy little slut,” Kraglin grunts, making a soft sound when Yondu pushes his ass back. 

“You love it when I’m slutty, baby,” Rocket says with a grin, and Kraglin laughs shakily.

“Yeah, I sure do,” he sighs, and then lets out a long groan as he comes. He flops limply across Yondu’s back for a minute before he nuzzles his neck and starts jerking him off again. 

Yondu lowers his head and pants, hot breath ruffling the fur on Rocket’s leg, and then he comes too with a series of little throat clicks and some harsh breaths.

Now it’s time for Rocket to cuddle up and lick the scars along the side of his face. He savors the taste of Yondu’s sweat and the scent of sex that’s still heavy in the air. And he loves how Yondu turns his face up for kisses when he’s all fucked-out and sleepy.

Rocket pets Yondu’s cheek and licks his face clean while Kraglin pulls out and grabs the roll of toilet paper by the bed. He wipes Yondu up quickly and then slides into bed next to them. 

Rocket grabs his hair and pulls him in for a kiss. He likes the throaty little noise it gets Kraglin to make. 

It doesn’t take long for Yondu to drift off; the first rattling snore makes Rocket and Kraglin both snicker quietly.

“Wish I could fall asleep that easy,” Rocket mutters.

“Me too.” Kraglin nibbles Rocket’s ear; Rocket flicks it out of his mouth. 

“Quit it.” 

“Never had problems with bein’ in my mouth before,” says Kraglin with a grin.

Rocket pushes him onto his back and crawls on top of him. “Less talking. You’re gonna wake him up.” 

Kraglin’s hand settles on Rocket’s waist and eases him down to lay across Kraglin’s chest. Rocket nuzzles his cheek against Kraglin’s chest hair, huffing the scent of him through his mouth.

It’s good to be home.

—

They actually do some training exercises over the next week, once they settle back in. Rocket hates to admit it, but the camping trip really did help everyone relax more around each other. Gamora’s even starting to thaw around Mantis. 

Starting. Rocket still thinks it’ll be a cold day in hell before they’re actually friends. But it’s something.

The quiet mornings have changed too; these days Rocket’s as likely to be reading one of the parenting guides Gamora shared with him as messing with his new projects.

He might be designing sex toys. If anyone asks they’re bombs.

He’s looking over a chapter on setting boundaries for your kid when his comm beeps.

Gamora frowns across the table. “It’s a little early for our contacts, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Rocket looks at the number, bursts out laughing, and denies the call.

“What?”

“Wait for it,” he says, still giggling. Sure enough, a minute later the light comes on to indicate he’s got a message. He presses the button to listen.

Stakar’s thunderous face takes up the whole screen like he’s leaning in. As if he’s somehow more intimidating that way. As if Rocket can’t hear Aleta laughing in the background. “ _Rocket._ You wanna explain to me why a drunk A’askavariian kid—who has _my personal number_ —calls me in the middle of the goddamn night, _while I’m with my wife,_ to ask me about freaking _Ravager culture?_ Call me back or I will hunt you down.”

Gamora’s mouth falls open. “You didn’t.”

“I totally did.” Rocket wipes a tear, kicking his feet gleefully. “Did you get a load of his _face?_ That was great!”

She sighs. “Unbelievable.” 

So Gamora still ain’t that fun. Whatever. Rocket thinks he’s hilarious, and he can see the corner of her mouth curling up, just a little, so maybe she’s a little more fun than he thought.


End file.
